The Death Game
by Tabor Shannon
Summary: 16 year-old Donovan didn't expect the events that were to follow after he logged on... Much less the danger they would place him in. Fighting through the madness in an attempt to beat SAO, can he save those that trust him... or even himself? Rated M because of violence and romance. Two general story arcs: Donovan/Micheal Arc and Booth Arc. Canonical. I suck at summaries.
1. Swordland

Donovan Johnson admired the hardcase copy of the game. _Sword Art Online_... he thought. He had been lucky enough to be in the first 1000 beta testers worldwide, not to mention one of the only five beta testers in Nagasaki. He had actually won the raffle and gotten access to the game early, then wisely used the game financially: About fifty different people in his area had wanted to play the game, so Donovan had allowed them to do so on his account... for a hefty fee, of course. Using this money, he had pre-ordered the game when they presented the option to him. His brother Micheal had been one of the few who had waited three days in line to get one of the three hard copies the local game store was selling, the only one in the county to do so.

"Sodo Ato Onrain!" Donovan childishly exclaimed, imitating the Japanese way of saying the game's title wilst waving around the game as if it was his sword, at the same time causing his loose dreadlocks to bounce around wildly. He stood at 5'10" and had a medium-build. His father was an exercise-addict, much to Donovan's dislike. Donovan had always liked technology in any form over exercise. This still wasn't in the way of his father, however, and he had trained Donovan to the point where the teen benched 140 and ran the 400 in 49 seconds. Donovan's genetics still made him pretty slim, however, so he was more lean and mean than bulky.

The phone suddenly rang, however, and Donovan went to pick it up, idly tossing the game case on the bed.

"'Ello?" Donovan asked into the receiver, noting it was his brother. If it had been a number from anywhere else, he would have answered in Japanese.

"Yo, Don, this is Micheal." Donovan's brother said into the receiver.

"'Sup, Mike?" Donovan asked.

"Me and Tabor both just got the game, looks like Emma might get the last copy. We were the first in line... Three days, I just can't believe we got it. Either way, I have bad news: Momoe needs me to help finish the science project for Monday."

"All right, You still have a copy, right?" Donovan asked.

"_Oui_, that means my place is reserved. Don't worry, I'll get online tomorrow and see your character. Are you going to be playing as a fifteen-year old girl again?" Micheal asked, referring to Donovan's stunt in the previous MMORPG they'd played together.

"Nah, I'm pumping her up to thirteen this time. Don't snicker, bro, you know it works." Donovan was referring to the usual twenty-to-one ration between guys and girls on MMOs in modern times. Because of this, girls received a lot of attention. Donovan and several other players had picked up on a useful trick: You made your avatar a girl, and _Bam!_ All of the male players gave you items and were more likely to protect you. This was not to be confused with male players who did it for the sake of a more realistic cross-dresser or because they liked being girls and coudln't afford a sex-change.

"'Pumping up'? How's an age decrease going to 'pump her up'?"

"You know the Japanese, there's that whole innocent little girl culture over there. All the players are Japanese, you know."

"You're going to regret this."

"Whatever, man, I'm getting in touch with my more feminine side."

"All right, try not to die within the first few minutes, that would be just humiliating."

"Don't worry, I won't go straight to the highest accesible area immediately. Besides, this one is actually supposed to involve some player skill."

"All right, Emma got her copy by the way." Micheal announced. Emma, full name Emi Akamine, was the only person that came close to being Donovan's friend besides Micheal, and Micheal often joked that the two should start dating, much to Emma's chagrin and Donovan's surprising tacit approval. Donovan was still far too shy to even approach someone of the same gender, much less someone of the opposite one. Tabor was another American that was the son of one of their father's coworkers. They were the only three Americans in their neighborhood and school.

"Nice, tell her I'll meet her and Tabor at the sword shop in the first alley to the left of the beggining town's main gate."

"All right, 'bye, Bro."

"Goodbye, Mike."

Although SAO had been restricted to Japan, they had still been able to purchase the game as they lived in Japan, and Donovan even made it into the Beta test. Donovan looked at the watch on the side table on his bed. He waited until it hit 1:00 PM, then put on the NerveGear helmet. He breathed in three times deeply, then put the game into the slot. _Oh my gosh, this can't be real!_ Donovan thought as he trembled with excitement. Micheal, Emma, Tabor, and he had already decided they would meet up and make a guild in the game, though the guild was for the sake of convenience and bossing, all four of them preferring the solo-player play style. Tabor and Emma would probably already be at their homes by now, so Donovan excitedly exclaimed:

"Link Start!" and the whole world faded away.

**November 6th, 2022, 1:02 PM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 1: Town of Beginnings.**

Donovan looked around excitedly, having turned over a new leaf. The mighty tank Mitigaya was no more, gentle little Shadu having replaced him. The girl that stood in his place was 5'6", only reducing the time delay between his 5'10" body and the 5'6" body by .8 seconds. Shadu, Shadusneku being her full name and meaning Shadow-Snake in Japanese, was a bit tall for her age, but that didn't matter. Donovan was wearing the standard issue skirt/dress thingy with the leather armor and sword issued to every player. He had picked his dress to be a dark, pleasant mahogany. She was very pretty for her age, already maturing into a woman, but Donovan couldn't care less. It suddenly occurred to him that some male players might pick female characters because... well, yeah... Donovan could keep himself focused and ignore himself/herself completely, self-groping being below him.

"Hi, I'm Kiromi." A boy about fifteen years old approached Donovan. _And they said it was a stupid option..._ Donovan thought as he flirted away with the stranger. It only took ten minutes, but at the end of the conversation, Donovan had 200 col more and a nicer sword, the starter sword being just a plain iron sword of the selected type (curved or straight basically) but the sword he now held was a "Steel Sword +1," meaning the young boy was a prospective blacksmith, at least with slash weapons. _I better go meet up with Emma and Tabor..._ Donovan suddenly thought.

After walking to the main gate, he followed his own instructions word by word as if he didn't know the place, just in case they hadn't been clear and gotten lost. Donovan found the place precisely were he had indicated his friends to go, however, and entered in.

"Hello, may I help you?" The NPC shopkeeper asked.

"No, thank you, nonetheless, for your kindness." Donovan answered, looking at the only other customers in the store: A massive Samoan looking man whose muscles' muscles had muscles and a tough-looking guy who was like Donovan in real life: Lean and mean, sinewy, and muscular but not large. "Hear the valkyries' war cry yet?" Donovan asked the two casually while he admired the swords in front of him. One of them was advertised as "Steel Sword +7," piquing Donovan's interest temporarily, wondering why such a weapon would be present this early in the game.

"Not yet, they await their leader." The Samoan man answered, revealing him to be Tabor. Tabor had the standard issue black pants and a green shirt of his choice along with the standard issue equipment. Emma had the same clothes on but a dark mustard color.

"Another girl, Don?" Emma asked.

"You're a guy." Donovan answered back.

"It's different..." Emma said defensively. "You like the bonuses of being a girl, I don't like the attention."

"I'm just joking, all right?" Donovan said reassuringly. "It's nice to see you two. You heard about Micheal's delay?"

"I did." Tabor said. His avatar looked remarkably like him, just a couple of years piled on. They both had lantern jaws, tan skin, practically black eyes, and the same matted dark brown hair, Donovan noted that Tabor had pumped up his physique even more than gymnastics already did. Emma had made a surprisingly accurate male version of herself, keeping the same pixie-like, almond-shaped eyes. She had long hair like her real self, but her eyes were blue instead of brown.

"I was the one that Momoe called." Emma volunteered.

"Well, I was thinking of showing you around before we started getting through the whole mechanics of the game and actually making a guild."

"I'd like to see Aincrad a little bit." Emma said.

"Sure, why not?" Tabor agreed.

**November 6th, 2022 5:29 PM**

**Aincrad, Floor 1: Town of Beginnings, plains outside Starting City**

"Level three!" Emma exclaimed excitedly as her overall level increase yet another point and she watched her character parameters go up. The level up system was simple enough: You advanced one of your skills by one level, and a 'level up' point was assigned to your overall level. It took a set amount of XP to go from level to level, and a set amount of level up points to increase your overall level. From level 1 to level 2 of a skill, for example, it took 500 XP to level up. To go from overall level 1 to overall level 2, you needed five level up points.

Sword Art Online had made two incredibly bold moves when it was made: 1) No magic or long-range attacks in general, and 2) no player-assigned parameter stats (STR, DEX, AGI, etc.), rather focusing on player skill to a greater extent than other games. The player stats increased on their own, everyone who was, for example, level 20 would have the exact same parameters. Certain skills, however, increased parameters (albeit only one and only certain skills). The Sprint and Acrobatics skills raised AGI for example, while Two-Handed weapons in general raised STR.

"What was the level up prize?" Donovan asked.

"Iron Chestplate" Emma announced. She quickly equipped the armor on, boosting her Armor Points by twenty. Twenty AP was a large quantity at level three, but at level twenty or so it didn't matter if the change was below the hundreds.

"All right, that means we are all level three... Yes!" Donovan exclaimed. "I think we can probably move on to the next town by now." He gazed off into the distance in Horunka's general direction. "I say we form our guild now."

"What should we call it?"

"Well, the Valkyries, of course!" Emma exclaimed.

"Except for the fact that all Valkyries were female, sounds good to me." Donovan thought out loud.

"Says the cross-dresser." Tabor joked, receiving a friendly punch from Donovan.

"Hello! I was wondering if you might answer a question I have!" A voice suddenly called out in Japanese.

"Of course, what is it?" Tabor turned around and asked. A tall, muscular man with a slightly childish face stood there. He towered over Tabor's 6'2" frame, so Donovan was willing to bet that the man was easily 6'8" or even 6'10" tall, maybe a tad bit more.

"Where's the "log out" button? I was planning on playing for a couple of hours then getting off to eat and sleep, but I can't find the "log out" button."

"It should be the third option right below the menu..." Donovan said, causing the man to look up at the little girl.

"No, see, it isn't there." The man pinched his thumb and pointer together on his right hand, then brought them down after briefly raising them. The little menu popped up and he allowed Donovan to come over and look.

"Huh... must be a first day glitch... Don't worry, just contact a Game Master."

"Already tried, there aren't any online. I think tha-" Donovan's world suddenly exploded into a myriad of blue lights while church bells suddenly rang, suddenly finding himself in the starting square. Players from all over began to appear, filling up the square shortly. The square was soon filled with roughly 10,000 players, all of them wondering exactly what was going on.

"Hey, it's you again. What's happening?" The same man as before asked Donovan.

"I don't know, it was a forced teleport, probably something to do with the lack of a "log out" button." Donovan said, turning around to look at the man better. He had long, flowing brown hair and serious red eyes. The sky suddenly began to fill with red "warning" hexagons, creating a sort of humming noise and drawing both player's attention skyward. Red fluid began to ooze out of the cracks between the hexagons, and Donovan began to wonder if this was an event. The ooze coalesced into a game master soon enough, however, and Donovan was reassured in his suspicions that this was a fix for the bug about the "log out" buttons. The game master did not have a face, however, making Donovan curious about the whole event.

"Players, welcome to my world!" The game master suddenly announced. _My world?!_ Donovan suddenly thought. "I am Kayaba Akihiko. I am currently the only person who can control this world." Donovan was starting to get an uneasy feeling in his stomach, the people murmuring around him didn't help. "I trust you have already noticed the 'log out' button is missing from the main menu." Donovan relaxed. _I'm still getting off ASAP, just to make sure_... "However, this is not a game malfunction." _WAIT, WHAT?!_ Donovan's mind suddenly wanted to scream. "I repeat. This is not a game malfunction, but an original feature of Sword Art Online. You cannot log out of SAO on your own. No one on the outside will be able to shut down or remove the NerveGear. Should this be attempted, the transmitter inside the NerveGear will emit a powerful burst of microwave radiation, destroying your brain and thus ending your life." Donovan was dumbstruck, near catatonic. His mind had stopped functioning at the announcement of it being a feature. Now, he was only processing what Kayaba Akihiko said. People were reacting around him. In front of him, he heard a black haired and unrealistically handsome young man explain how such a thing could be to a pink-haired scruffier-looking guy with a red bandana in his hair. _Microwave radiation..._ Donovan thought as the player, apparently named "Kirito" explained to his friend what would happen.

"Unfortunately, the friends and families of several players have ignored this warning and attempted to remove the NerveGear. As a result, 213 players have retired from the real world and from Aincrad." _213?!_ That was higher than the amount of people that had died in the most recent plane crash...

"213 people have died already?" The man next to Donovan said.

"As you can see, news organizations across the world are reporting on this incident and the many deaths." Kayaba Akihiko's calling it an "incident" galled Donovan to the core. "Thus, you can now assume the danger of having your NerveGear removed to be greatly reduced. Please relax and work hard to clear the game." When Akihiko said "clear the game," it sort of calmed Donovan's racing mind. He had once watched a movie called Death Race, where all the convicts had to race to the death and whoever won would be set free. _Is this similar? Whoever beats the game is set free?_ Donovan thought. "However, do take note of this: You can no longer respawn in this game." _No respawns!?_ Donovan thought, his mind traitorously recalling how many times he had died attempting to clear the last MMORPG he had played. "Once your HP reaches zero, your avatar will permanently be erased. At the same time... the NerveGear will destroy your brain." Donovan remembered the Beta test, how much of a pain the enemies on just the second floor could be. The hopelessness of the situation weighed heavily upon him.

"You need only fulfill one condition to set yourselves free–." Donovan dreaded what was to follow: "Clear the game." _We only made it to the eighth floor in a whole month... they expect us to pass the whole game now?_ Donovan thought. _I have school, I'm sure many others here have jobs, families, people who depend on them..._ "You are currently on the 1st floor, the lowest level of Aincrad. Make your way through each dungeon and defeat the floor boss, and you will advance to the next level. Defeat the final boss on the 100th floor and you will clear the game." Outrage flowed throughout the crowd gathered. Everyone knew how little the Beta testers had progressed, in a whole _month..._ How long would it take to clear all hundred floors? Worse still, how many lives?

"And finally," Kayaba Akihiko began, his words dripping slightly with anticipation, "You can find a gift from me in your item storage. Please check for yourselves." Donovan opened his menu rapidly. _A weapon? Some legendary armor? Anything to give us an advantage?_ His mind roared. _A mirror?_ Donovan saw the item ID and laughed bitterly. _He gives us a mirror_. Donovan opened up the item, causing it to fall into his hands, and looked at it. It was a flat mirror with absolutely nothing exceptional about it. Then the people started disappearing. Donovan instinctively let go of the mirror, maybe saving himself from an early-game elimination, but the mirrors effects proved otherwise.

Pandemonium ensued as around the town square people were suddenly reverted to their IRL appearances. Donovan suddenly found himself dressed in the dress he had picked, but with his masculine body! He wanted to burst out laughing, especially after remembering what Micheal had said that morning about him regretting the choice.

"You're a guy!" The man next to him exclaimed. His luscious brown hair had been replaced by short, black spikes mainly pointed upwards but other than that sticking out in every direction. His face was even more child-like, the chin rounding and the cheekbones becoming less pronounced. Donovan must have presented a funny sight. His broad shoulders and back with the dress on and his thick sandy-colored dreadlocks falling down to halfway down his back in the pseudo-ponytail he kept it in when he didn't want it getting in his eyes. His face was probably just like it was in real life, narrow and long like most Americans'. He wondered if the stubble he had left this morning was showing.

"And you're not Alan Carter!" Donovan answered back jockingly, suddenly remembering which movie star the man had reminded him of. The man sort of grinned sheepishly as his face turned tomato red. "Besides, rule on of the internet: Man until proven woman!"

"All of you must be wondering why. Why would Kayaba Akihiko, the creator of Sword Art Online and the NerveGear do all this? My goal has already been achieved. I wanted to create my own world that I could observe and admire. That is why I made Sword Art Online. And now, it has all been fulfilled. This ends the tutorial for the official Sword Art Online launch." Kayaba looked through the crowd, creating the illusion he made eye-contact with everyone. "I wish every player the best of luck..." And with that, Kayaba melted back into the skyline, the "warning" hexagons disappearing along with him. _And may the odds be ever in your favor..._ Donovan thought quoting a film with a similar premise to what was going on. All ten thousand players stood awestruck in the square, looking where the dread judge had once stood.

"NO! NO!" A young girl cried out, recoiling back and crying. The sudden noise caused players to come back to reality, and panic ensued. Donovan watched the pair he had seen before, the handsome hero and scruffy guy, now the guy-girl and the pizza delivery-type guys run out of the plaza, giving Donovan an idea of what to do.

"Follow me!" Donovan told the man, quickly scanning the crowd for Tabor and Emma. He found both rapidly thanks to the tall man with him. "We have got to put some order into this. Let me onto your shoulders!" Donovan told the man, who quickly complied, Emma followed his example with Tabor.

"EVERYBODY CALM DOWN!" Emma screamed, allowing everyone to hear. Everyone momentarily looked at her, then at Donovan, both on their respective friend's shoulders.

"All right, listen! Regardless of whether or not what we heard is true, we have to stick together, organize ourselves, and ensure everyone has the best chance to survive. Does everyone understand!?" Donovan yelled, making sure everyone could hear. Most people looked relatively calm, and they were, thankfully, paying attention to Donovan.

"I want everyone to get into groups. Group A is composed of people who were in the Beta test, Group B is everyone who has leveled up at least once, and Group C is the people that have no id-"

"Their leaving to take advantage of the best hunting grounds!" A voice suddenly called out, pointing to about three hundred or so people exiting through the side exits. In mere moments, everyone was out of the square, all of them in a mad rush to get to anywhere where there was monsters, regardless of their level or even if they knew how the combat mechanic worked.

"Hey, you tried..." Emma said, trying to comfort Donovan with her gaze. Donovan got off the stranger.

"I'm Shadusuneku, but you can call me Shadu or Donovan." He said, extending his hand. "I say our best chance of survival is to stick together, level up to a point in which we can survive reasonably well, and then go our own or joined ways. Deal?"

"Deal. I'm DragonBlade. I would prefer for myself to be known that way." DragonBlade said, shaking Donovan's hand.

"I'm NickFrost, but you can call me Frosty or Nick." Tabor said, extending his hand. Tabor's clothes only hung slightly looser than before, but this only revealed his massive chest muscles even more because of the loose shirt. DragonBlade and Tabor shook hands

"I'm Naina." Emma said, offering hers. DragonBlade gingerly took her hand, blushing slightly.

"Is it too late to join this guild?" A deep voice suddenly said. A tall, muscular African looking man walked out of the shadows. "What you are doing is smart. I propose we try to add in as many newbies as we can, dedicate ourselves to teach as many people as possible the basics of the game."

"I agree." Tabor and Donovan said in unison.

"My name is Agil, by the way." The man said. Everyone introduced themselves again.

"Just to help, let's call ourselves 'The Noob Conglomerate!'" Tabor said.

"How about 'Aincrad Survival Force' instead?" Donovan proposed, and everyone but Tabor agreed."We can start by breaking up the fights in the square. Actually, never mind. It looks like some players are just downright losing it..." Donovan observed. Most of them were children, way too young to be playing SAO, standing in the square, bawling. A few adults, especially young adults, were on the floor, crying as well. The odd one or two were just staring off into space.

As Donovan helped one young woman up, she suddenly clung to him tightly.

"No... no..." She said, then fainted. Donovan had never dealt with a person going through mental breakdown, so he had no idea what to do.

"Here, I was a psychologist back in real life." A woman in her 20s said. She picked the woman up and helped her over to one of the square corners, softly talking to her. Donovan followed along idly, stopping to pick up a boy who was crying.

"Shh... Don't worry, buddy. I'll get you out of here."

"Mommy... Daddy..." The boy said among tears. Donovan found himself surprisingly weak as he struggled with the boy's weight. He would have been able to heft and toss the boy around easily in real life, but he was struggling with just carrying him in the game. _My STR parameters are low right now..._ Donovan though bitterly. He looked at his bicep as it sort of bulged through his clothing. _Just a useless mass of pixels until god knows what level..._ He thought in frustration.

"We need more people to help..." The woman said.

"I'll do my best." Donovan said. The rest of the AST were bringing in people as well. Donovan and the woman, her username was Sasha, discussed the possibilities of moving them into a building NPCs didn't use often and try to get them to interact with the NPCs first, then players. The move took the rest of the day and most of the night, but it was well worth it. They found a church on the outskirts of the city and began to keep them there. Donovan stood in the starting square and observed the area. No one was left, but Donovan wanted to make sure. Right here, right now, his life had taken a sudden turn. His brother and he had always played knights and dragons in the embassy's garden, but now it was his reality. _If only Michael was here with me..._ Donovan thought, _But no... He's safe, I can't ask that of him_. Donovan suddenly saw a black-haired girl with a white dress looking at him.

"Hey! Wait!" Donovan yelled after her as she ran away. She turned a corner, but when Donovan did the same, she was gone. "Where are you?!" Donovan yelled out in Japanese, then English in case the player didn't understand Japanese.

"I shouldn't be here." The little girl suddenly said behind him, causing Donovan to spin around just in time to see her vanish. _What?_ Donovan thought, looking around. _This game keeps getting weirder and_ weirder.


	2. A Tale of Two Friends

**November 6th, 2022. 12:01 AM.**

**Kyoto, Booth Lecter's appartment. Hannibal Booth Lecter's room.  
**

Hannibal Booth Lecter confirmed the file download, the massive game SAO finally on his CPU. The custom-built 36 GHz decacore CPU with the 15 terabyte hard drive and 4 terabyte RAM could run SAO, its specifications beyond even the recommended setting for SAO. It was still a very taxing game to run, but Hannibal had made the CPU specifically so it could handle the game.

Hannibal Booth Lecter was his full name, but he went by just "Booth" because his father had, despite his good intentions, accidentally named him after one of the most infamous fictional killers ever. His father, David Lecter, had named him Hannibal because of the great Phoenician general, but Hannibal Lecter was the main antagonist from Silence of the Lambs as well. Booth came from John Wilkes Booth.

David Lecter wanted his children to have a message that would last a lifetime in their names, so he had named Booth after John Wilkes Booth because he had been a very passionate man, following his heart and his beliefs. He had done so at the wrong time and in the wrong circumstances, however, earning him the hate of a nation. The lesson then, was "Bide your time and be careful about when and what you do." Hannibal had no meaning whatsoever except that David Lecter had been a history buff.

Booth was twenty years old, on his second year at college, studying digital animation. He practiced several martial arts, Kendo and Krav Maga among them, so he had a lean and mean physique. A birth defect that made his rib cage deeper than it was wide made his shoulders seem small and underdeveloped. This didn't mean he wasn't strong, however. His hair was an unkempt bob of wavy black hair, never really placed much attention on. He usually wore dark clothing, the contrast between those clothes and his pale skin somehow favoring him. His black and dark brown rosary hung idly at his chest, unashamedly proclaiming to the whole world what he was: a Christian. The phone suddenly rang, interrupting his line of thought, and Booth went to pick it up, idly tossing the game case on the bed.

"Eri?" Booth asked into the receiver, the caller ID indicating who it was. Eri Nakano was one grade below him and was one of his friends. Booth had always gotten along with women better than men, mostly because he did not enjoy what most men did. Booth preferred spending the afternoon with his friends and just talking than going out to play sports, for example.

"Hey, are you still planning to spend the afternoon playing that game?" Eri said. Her tone was neutral, neither happy nor angry about his most likely answer.

"Yeah... you can come over to do it with me if you want..." Booth said. His love of virtual worlds in which he could just lose himself was an annoyance to many, Eri sometimes one of them.

"And play SAO?" Eri said, critical of his idea for that afternoon. Eri would have preferred to go to the movies or something.

"Trust me, you are going to enjoy this." Booth said.

"No I won't. It's all dungeon crawling and fighting."

"All right, how about we go fishing instead?" Booth proposed.

"That sounds much better." Eri said. Eri loved the calm and quiet that accompanied fishing.

"Come over, I'll have everything ready shortly."

"Do I bring my rod?" Eri asked.

"No, I got two." Booth said, calmly, his plan already in action.

"All right, I'll see you at your house."

When Eri knocked at the door fifteen minutes later, Booth answered wearing his pajamas.

"I thought you said you would be ready!" Eri exclaimed, irritated at Booth's apparent lack of diligence. She would often say he was lazy.

"I am. Trust me." Booth said.

"I'm not playing SAO." Eri stated, realizing what Booth was pulling at.

"How about a fishing simulator?" Booth said, smiling innocently. "I know you'll love it." Eri raised an eyebrow. "Just put this on, make a character, and follow me."

"All right, just this once." Eri said.

"It's not like it's going to last an eternity."

"I'm getting off at five-sharp." Eri stated.

"Why? Scared you might get stuck in the game for a year or two since you will be just... _Awestruck..._" Booth said, putting his arm around her and moving his other arm in an arc in front of them, as if pointing out the scenery.

"Listen, I'm just doing this because I'm your friend. Good luck getting any other girl to play SAO with you." Eri said, throwing off his arm and laughing. They both laid down on the bed and put their respective helmets on.

"Link Start!" Both of them said, and the whole world faded away.

**November 6th, 2022, 1:22 PM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 1: Town of Beginnings.**

Booth watched as multiple brightly colored polygons raced into his field of vision. Once that passed, five circles reported on his five senses, and, finding everything fully operational, disappeared. He was then prompted to see if he wanted to continue using his previous account. He selected yes, accepting "Kaihaku (M)" as his avatar. The world seemed to integrate around him in a bright flash of light, the city square materializing around him. Starter City had everything but a Player Residential Area, from the most humble sword vendor on the streets to the most opulent stores of everything from food and liquor to clothing. Booth waited around a for about ten minutes, patiently waiting for Eri to go through the character creation process. As the square steadily emptied and filled, Booth scanned the crowd for anyone he recognized, but didn't find anybody.

"'Kaihaku'? 'Gray'?" Eri's voice asked. Booth turned around to find a girl with light blue eyes and straight, light blue hair that fell to about her waist. She had elected her starter dress to be dark green.

"'Simo'?" Booth asked in return. Kaihaku looked, as aforementioned, like Booth. Booth had still touched him up a little bit, though, evidenced because he didn't have any moles or stuff like that and his shoulders were as broad as they should be on your average male.

"Like Simo Hayha, greatest marksman the world has ever known." Eri answered. "He held off the entire Russian army, you know."

"He wasn't a skeet shooter though." Booth reminded her. Booth like martial arts and Eri liked skeet shooting.

"So? He was still a great marksman."

"As you wish. Anyhow, we should probably be going to get some fishing rods. They don't give them to you at the beginning of the game." Booth said, gently pulling on Eri's arm. They navigated the constantly fluctuating crowd as people left the square only for more people to log on and occupy their place. Booth remembered some of the Starting City's streets and their intricate twists and turns. Starting City, you could say, was mostly alleys and backstreets lined with shops and inns. They made it through the streets easily since not that many players were even navigating the city, mostly staying in the starting square and forming their groups and cliques. Booth made it to a general store and entered, Eri patiently following him.

"It's the third floor." Booth said matter-of-factly as he pivoted up the landing. They both arrived on the third floor, five players browsing the wares. The general store, one that Booth had discovered was fairly reliable when it came down to variety, since the store was always well stocked and all of the wares were of high quality. To get to the store, however, you had to know it was there since it was at the back end of the alley. Because of this, Booth easily surmised that all of the players currently in the store, save Eri, were Beta testers. Booth walked over to the store owner and sold his and Eri's swords, giving him enough money to buy two cheap fishing rods.

"There's a couple of lakes to the north of the Starter City." Booth said, picking both rods up and putting them in his inventory.

"Sounds all right. You tend to trust people who know the area for information. You're the closest thing I guess." Eri teased him.

"Beta testers, even though our accounts are reset, we still have a very unfair advantage." Booth said. "For example, I know that two of the largest, easily found lakes have no fish for anyone under Fishing level 50. The smaller ponds have lower level fish, but I watched a couple hundred people during the Beta test give up on fishing because they never fished in the smaller ponds."

"Makes sense. Big lakes for big fish, small ponds for little fish."

"The system is, you could say, slightly simplified. You can't expect someone to sit for about ten minutes waiting for one fish while he could be out hunting monsters. Because of this, skills like Blacksmithing, Sewing, Cooking, and similar skills that take a lot of time to develop and maintain in real life are rather simple. Cooking is, often, simplified to tapping on the food with the right cooking utensil, for example. I think we'll be catching a couple of fish in the first few minutes if we know what to do."

"That doesn't sound like any fun..." Eri said.

"Did I say I would tell you what I learned in the Beta test?" Booth said, smiling mischievously.

"Now it sounds fun."

**November 6th, 2022 2:29 PM**

**Aincrad, Floor 1: Knee-High Forest.  
**

"Wow!" Eri exclaimed as they rounded the corner.

"There is a reason why they say Aincrad is scenery porn." Booth said, offering his hand as they scaled the last rock formation. Eri and Booth stood at the top of the pinnacle of the rock formation. Lush plains and bountiful forests spread out in front of them. The granite formation that they had just scaled allowed them to avoid that. Their lush appearance betrayed players, tricking them into going into the forests. Those forests were full of dangerous mobs, the Wood Bear being the most lethal. Getting to the pond where they were going to fish would have normally involved a long trek through said forests.

"I never... wow..." Eri said, breathless. The climb had been worth it, albeit having left them with aching arms and legs. In real life, Booth could have easily handled the climb. Eri might have, but their SAO avatars were weak and out of shape despite their appearances. The climb had slowly developed the Free-running skill, and thus their AGI and STR parameters. Leveling in SAO was simplified so that combat and other activities relied on the player's skill. Still, it was logical that as you swung your sword, your arms would strengthen. That as you ran, you gained condition. Certain activities would grant you XP of a certain kind, adding to the specific skill. Their trek up the mountain side had caused the Cardinal system to register that they were exercising the Free-running skill. Every time they used that skill's pre-programed movements, XP was assigned to that skill. Leveling up that skill caused a point to be assigned to your overall level's progress. A certain amount of points would cause your overall level to go up.

"Here, let's go down the slope." Booth said, helping Eri down. Their Free-running levels were in the teens, allowing them to move around easier than they had before. Their STR parameters had gone up as well, meaning both players had made it to level two overall.

"This seems like a nice spot." Eri said, sitting atop a log that cast shade underneath it. This was usually one of the better spots to catch fish in real life. SAO, however, was set in a world of fantasy. So some fish were in the shade, others in the sun. Really, position, bait, time of day, and so on only affected what type of fish you catch, not whether or not you caught a fish. They both fished for the better part of about three hours, exchanging tidbits of conversation once in a while.

"All right, it's about to be five thirty." Eri announced, standing up. "Can I just log out here?"

"Yeah, you can log out anywhere except boss rooms, the middle of combat, or areas in which a lot of enemy mobs spawn. It was nice fishing with you."

"It was surprisingly nice to fish here. I like how simple it is. I still like the real thing better though. The scenery _is_, I must admit, amazing. I might come to check it out once you clear out higher floors." Eri said, stretching herself. "The soreness from the climb is gone once I log out, right?"

"Of course. It's only in the game for the sense of realism." Booth said. They exchanged a brief hug, then Booth showed her how to bring up the menu. "Just pinch the forefinger and thumb of your right hand, now up... now down." Booth instructed patiently.

"Hey... it's not here." Eri said, pointing at the bottom button on her menu. It was blank and had no function, pressing it doing nothing except for a small ping and the button turning orange.

"Hmmm... must be a first day bug... I'll contact a game master." Booth said, bringing up his respective menu and activating the function. No GM appeared, however, and the function suddenly disappeared entirely. "What the hey... hmmm..." Booth said, thinking. Church bells suddenly rang, and both player's worlds disappeared in a brilliant flash of blue light.

"What happened?" Eri asked, looking around. She was relatively calm, understanding it was all in a game. _Must be some sort of weird event for the inauguration..._ she thought.

"I don't know, it was a forced teleport. Probably something to do with the lack of a 'log out' button." Booth said, turning around to look at Eri. The sky suddenly began to fill with red "warning" hexagons, creating a sort of humming noise and drawing both player's attention skyward. Red fluid began to ooze out of the cracks between the hexagons, and Booth began to wonder if this was an event. The ooze coalesced into a game master soon enough, however, and Booth was reassured in his suspicions that this was a fix for the bug about the "log out" buttons. The game master did not have a face, however, making Booth curious about the whole event.

"Players, welcome to my world!" The game master suddenly announced. _My world?_ Booth thought, curious. "I am Kayaba Akihiko. I am currently the only person who can control this world." Booth was starting to get an uneasy feeling in his stomach, and the people murmuring around him didn't help. "I trust you have already noticed the 'log out' button is missing from the main menu." Booth relaxed. _I'm still getting off the moment this is over, just to make sure_... "However, this is not a game malfunction." _Interesting... very interesting_ Booth's mind reacted.

Both he and Eri turned around and looked at each other. Booth shrugged. "I repeat. This is not a game malfunction, but an original feature of Sword Art Online. You cannot log out of SAO on your own. No one on the outside will be able to shut down or remove the NerveGear. Should this be attempted, the transmitter inside the NerveGear will emit a powerful burst of microwave radiation, destroying your brain and thus ending your life." Booth was mildly rattled, but he wasn't panicking. Eri, on the other hand... Booth placed a hand on her shoulder, the human contact calming her down a little bit. She turned to look at him and he nodded. _It's true._

Booth's mind had begun racing at the announcement of it being a feature. Now, he was only calmly processing what Kayaba Akihiko said. It was not in him to panic. People were reacting in assorted ways around him. Some froze, knowing full well such a thing was very much possible. Others snickered and took it as a joke. A full third of the players simply stared at Kayaba Akihiko, or, at least, the man who called himself that, as they waited for him to continue. In front of him, he heard a black haired and unrealistically handsome young man explain how such a thing could be to a pink-haired scruffier-looking guy with a red bandana in his hair. _Microwave radiation..._ Booth thought as the player, apparently named "Kirito," explained to his friend what would happen.

"Unfortunately, the friends and families of several players have ignored this warning and attempted to remove the NerveGear. As a result, 213 players have retired from the real world and from Aincrad." _213?_ _Either he is dead serious or this is the cruelest and stupidest major joke ever played_.

"213 people have died already?" Eri asked. Booth motioned her to stay quiet and put attention to the speaker.

"As you can see, news organizations across the world are reporting on this incident and the many deaths." Kayaba Akihiko's calling it an "incident" seemed like an understatement. "Thus, you can now assume the danger of having your NerveGear removed to be greatly reduced. Please relax and work hard to clear the game." When Akihiko said "clear the game," it cleared Booth's mind as well. This statement gave him an absolute. Booth's mind was highly scientific, working on laws and other such absolutes. He was beginning to doubt that this was a joke less and less by the moment, but he had a few laws his mind could work on at the moment:

1) You cannot log out or take the NerveGear off.

2) You will die before you can successfully remove your helmet. Logging out is just flat out impossible unless:

3) You do not escape until you pass the game.

"However, do take note of this: You can no longer respawn in this game." _No respawns!?_ Booth thought, surprised. Another absolute came into play now: _Death is permanent, you cannot restart and will have to sit out and wait for the rest to clear the game_. "Once your HP reaches zero, your avatar will permanently be erased. At the same time... the NerveGear will destroy your brain." _Scratch that, "Death is permanent. Period."_ Booth remembered the Beta test, how much of a pain the enemies on just the second floor could be. The hopelessness of the situation weighed heavily upon him for a mere second, but his mind cleared immediately. This game was numbers at its core, no matter how much they said otherwise. All video games were numbers. Numbers were absolutes, Booth could work with and around that. The absolute completed itself in his mind, his preliminary assumption corrected: _Death is permanent, both in SAO and real life_.

"You need only fulfill one condition to set yourselves free–." Booth knew what was to follow: "Clear the game." _This is going to take virtually forever and ever... _Booth thought . _I have college, I'm sure many others here have jobs, families, maybe even people who depend on them..._ "You are currently on the 1st floor, the lowest level of Aincrad. Make your way through each dungeon and defeat the floor boss, and you will advance to the next level. Defeat the final boss on the 100th floor and you will clear the game." Outrage flowed throughout the crowd gathered. Everyone knew how little the Beta testers had progressed, in a whole _month..._ How long would it take to clear all hundred floors? Worse still, how many lives? But Booth's mind was not clouded by such petty things. The science of SAO had formulated, the absolutes had been set.

"And finally," Kayaba Akihiko began, his words dripping slightly with anticipation, "You can find a gift from me in your item storage. Please check for yourselves." Booth calmly opened his menu. _A weapon? Some legendary armor? Anything to give us an advantage?_ He thought, _No, it wouldn't fit the game. SAO is about, at its base, fairness: you have what you earn_. _A mirror?_ Booth thought in surprise as he saw the item ID and laughed bitterly. _He gives us a mirror? Oh vanity of vanities, a mirror?_ Booth opened up the item, causing it to fall into his hands, and looked at it. It was a flat mirror with absolutely nothing exceptional about it. Then the people started disappearing in bursts of blue lights, then their silhouettes reappeared framed by the blue lights. Booth looked at the mirror curiously, unfazed and wondering what was to come. A mass early elimination wouldn't be fair. Kayaba wouldn't do it because of that.

Pandemonium ensued as around the town square people were suddenly reverted to their real life appearances. The female population dropped suddenly, as did the average amount of people who resembled the cosmopolitan beauty standard. Booth looked calmly into the mirror. A freckle or two had appeared here and there, his cheeks were a bit more gaunt. Nothing had really changed for all intents and purposes, he still possessed what Eri and other girls often called his "dark beauty."

"Wha-!" Eri exclaimed. Her long light-blue hair had been replaced by her real life dark brown hair that flowed to about slightly below her shoulders. Her face didn't look as cosmopolitan anymore, gaining the Oriental features many people found curiously unattractive. Booth looked at her with a mixture of pity and shame. Pity, because Booth suddenly realized that as one of the few truly female players, Eri was about to get mobbed for attention. Her whole appearance now screamed pretty Asian schoolgirl as well, so no one would take her seriously at first. Shame because of how drastically she had changed her appearance from Booth's point of view, a desire he had never understood.

"Welcome to Real Life 2.0." Booth said flatly, looking through the crowd for anyone he knew, not really expecting to find anyone. Kayaba had begun speaking again, however, so Booth looked up. Eri was still looking at herself, stunned.

"All of you must be wondering 'why?.' Why would Kayaba Akihiko, the creator of Sword Art Online and the NerveGear do all this? My goal has already been achieved. I wanted to create my own world that I could observe and admire. That is why I made Sword Art Online. And now, it has all been fulfilled. This ends the tutorial for the official Sword Art Online launch." Kayaba looked through the crowd, creating the illusion he made eye-contact with everyone. "I wish every player the best of luck..." And with that, Kayaba melted back into the skyline, the "warning" hexagons disappearing along with him. Booth rarely swore, but this was one of those times when an unpleasant word made it through his facade.

"Son of a bitch." Booth said, looking at where Kayaba Akihiko had floated. All ten thousand players stood awestruck in the square, looking where the dread judge had once stood. A spotlight suddenly flared up, pointing all attention to one player.

"This is reality." The magnified voice of the player named Kirito said. Kayaba must have done it on purpose, because the once handsome man had been replaced by a small, eleven-twelve-ish looking boy. Above all, however, his thumb was bleeding, as it probably had been for whatever reason it had been in real life. As the blood drop suddenly fell, silence clutched the square in its fell grip. The _pop_ sound the blood drop made when it fell was magnified as well, causing at least one player to regain their senses and grip of reality.

"NO! NO!" A young girl cried out, recoiling back and crying. The sudden noise caused players to come back to reality, and panic ensued. Booth watched the pair he had seen before, Kirito and the scruffy-looking guy, pizza delivery-type guy, run out of the plaza, giving Booth an idea of what to do. _I must go and take advantage of all the resources possible_ Booth thought. _But what about Eri?_ _What about _everybody_? _Booth thought. Eri could come with him, he would take care of her. As for the rest... it pained his heart, convictions, and very soul, but he could not help them. At least, not right now.

"Follow me!" Booth barked at Eri, quickly scanning the crowd for a way through while Eri followed him, a blank stare on her face. Booth and Eri ran through the crowd, ignoring people on the floor crying, people blankly staring into space. _Survive_ Booth thought, _that is what I must do to help everyone._ You couldn't help anyone if you were dead after all.

"EVERYBODY CALM DOWN!" A girl suddenly screamed, her shrill yet powerful voice piercing the crowd and causing silence to fall, allowing everyone to hear. Everyone momentarily looked at her, then at a man, both on their respective friend's shoulders. The man had a dress on, probably one of the genderbent players, causing Booth to snicker as he navigated through the crowd.

"All right, listen! Regardless of whether or not what we heard is true, we have to stick together, organize ourselves, and ensure everyone has the best chance to survive. Does everyone understand!?" The man yelled, making sure everyone could hear. Several paragons relayed his message to the rest of the people. Most people looked relatively calm, and they were, thankfully, paying attention to the man. Booth was grateful someone with people skills was at least attempting to handle the situation. Booth could have never done something like that. He still thought that the man was slightly insane, trying to calm down a crowd of thousands.

"I want everyone to get into groups. Group A is composed of people who were in the Beta test, Group B is everyone who has leveled up at least once, and Group C is the people that have no id-" the girl said, taking over the awkward silence the man had accidentally caused, but she was quickly interrupted.

"They're leaving to take advantage of the best hunting grounds!" A voice suddenly called out, pointing to about three thousand or so people stealthily exiting through the side exits, Booth and Eri among them. In mere minutes, everyone was out of the square, all of them in a mad rush to get to anywhere where there was monsters, regardless of their level or even if they knew how the combat mechanic worked. Screams and shouts erupted amid the square. When most were gone, a few brawls remained along with the occasional player in the middle of an emotional breakdown or just flat out on the floor, weeping and bawling nonsense. Booth and Eri were long gone by then, heading to Horunka village using Booth's knowledge of the way.

**November 10th, 2022. 9:00 PM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 1: Mountainside Village****. Miner's Repose Inn.**

A knock sounded at the door of the inn, causing Eri to look up. She put on her normal clothes instead of her nightgown and went to the door, opening to find a morbid-looking Booth.

"Hey." Booth said. "Can I come in?"

"Sure." Eri said, letting him into the room. They both had their starter clothes on, but Eri had a Steel Breastplate on while Booth had a Steel Cuirass on. Booth also had a very dark gray sleeved and hooded cloak split at the chest but buttoned and belted at his midriff. The cloak's long end dragged solemnly behind him. He took the hood off.

"Listen, I've been thinking. Dozens of players' names have already been crossed out on the Monument of Life, along with cause of death and time that they died. The Monument replaced the Room of Resurrection, and those players have never been seen again." Booth said, wearily sitting down on the bed. "What Kayaba said is real: you die here, you die forever." Eri walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I understand..." Eri said. Booth suddenly got up and pinned her against the wall, an uncharacteristic flare of emotion showing across his face. His very eyes appeared to be on fire as he breathed heavily with anger.

"No, you don't understand!" Booth stated harshly, startling Eri. "I brought you into this death trap!" Booth exclaimed, throwing up his hands as he paced restlessly across the room. "I was the one that encouraged you to get into game!" Booth said, finally. He sat down on the bed. "You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me." Booth said, a small tear welled up in his left eye, threatening to break. But Booth wouldn't allow it.

"Hey, I don't blame you." Eri said, pulling him up and cradling his head in her arms, his forehead on her shoulder. Booth sort of stood there, frozen, processing what Eri said. "It's not your fault... You just wanted to show me the game, to show me your _world. _I came _voluntarily_. Booth, I would forgive you but there is nothing to be forgiven."

"Thanks." Booth said, straightening up. "Still, anything that happens to you is my responsibility. I would dare ask that you stay in safe areas unless I am with you. For my sake." Booth said.

"For your sake." Eri said.

"There are several support roles you can take on." Booth said, materializing several items in front of him. There was a hammer, a needle and thread, and a knife. Eri still had her fishing rod. "To occupy your time, of course, should you wish. Several players are taking up Forging and a player named Ashley informed Argo about a new skill named Sewing. There's also supposed to be Cooking, but food isn't necessary in SAO. I'd rather you do something that would benefit everyone."

"Forging sounds nice." Eri said. "Sure you don't want me to cook? Food is still a comfort."

"For once, I won't tell a woman to go get in the kitchen." Booth said jokingly, Eri playfully back-handing him on one cheek. "Forging is to make metal armor and weapons. Sewing is supposed to make leather armor." Booth started to walk out the door, his purpose accomplished. Eri was safe, for now...

"Booth..."

"Yeah?" Booth asked, turning around. It was now Eri's turn to hold back the tears and ask him something.

"Promise me that while you're out being the gilded hero you won't die. For my sake." Eri said, choking her words at the concept of one of her closest friends dying.

"I swear to God, and you know I place a lot more weight on that than most people, that Both you and I and as many other people as possible will come out of this game. But I brought you into this, making me responsible for you, so you especially will never die." Booth said, gingerly picking up her hand in his and kissing his thumb's last knuckle, giving the appearance he had kissed her hand. He turned and began to walk out the door.

"Booth."

"Yes?" Booth asked again, turning his head but not his body.

"Take care of yourself."

"For your sake." Booth said, walking out the door. _Booth..._ Eri's voice said in his head. He like how it sounded: _Booth_. It made him seem like a true adult, no child ever being able to be called "Booth." _Why isn't that my_ _Avatar's name? Why "Kaihaku"?_ Booth thought, distracting himself from the reality of his world even if for a moment with such a trivial thing as a name. He then looked at his coat's sleeve. _Kaihaku... of course._


	3. Stories of Aincrad 1

**This chapter is composed of four short stories that occur between the end of the SAO inauguration tutorial and before the first Floor Boss was defeated.**

**Emma's Story**: "A Spoonful of Sugar..."

**November 29th, 2022, 11:56 PM**

**Aincrad, Floor 1: West Plains**.

Emma looked at the little girl, Scilica she had said her name was. Scilica was sobbing uncontrollably.

"I'm going to die... I'll never see my parents again..." Scilica said, weeping bitterly.

"Shhh, Scilica. I'm sure you will. I have some friends of mine, big strong guys, they'll probably beat the game. They've beaten hundreds of games before." Emma said, stroking Scilica's hair. Scilica was sobbing into Emma's chest in great heaving sobs, incapable of understanding what was going on. Scilica's hopelessness was still awfully contagious, however, and Emma's heart grew heavy with doubt. _Will they be able to beat it? _Emma thought, momentarily doubting her friend's abilities. _The best player isn't even here_ Emma thought, thinking of Sasha's truly awesome skill at video games in general, especially full immersion ones.

"I wish... I _wish_... I want to get out of this game!" Scilica burst out, her sobbing increasing.

"Here, let's go see if we can find you something to eat, Scilica-chan." Emma said, lifting up the little twelve year-old girl with her arms. Emma was still wearing her starter clothes and her steel plate, mostly because she spent more time at Sasha's makeshift psychology ward to try and help as many people as possible than training or dungeon crawling.

"I'm not hungry, though... You don't have to spend your money Naina-san..." Scilica protested.

"You never will feel hungry. Remember the day that Kayaba told everyone to get into a safe zone and a bunch of people suddenly fainted?" Emma asked the little girl.

"I fainted..." Scilica said, looking up into Emma's eyes.

"That was because everyone was being taken to a hospital. We have an IV drip attached right here-" Emma touched the bottom of her wrist. "-that ensures we'll never die of hunger. You never will be hungry here, Scilica-chan, but the food can be delicious." Emma had as of yet to eat something beyond a bun of bread with cream on it. The buns were easily obtained at the bakeries in towns. The cream had been a quest reward. The only reason why people felt hungry in SAO was because they were hungry in real life. In SAO, food was merely a commodity, their real bodies never growing hungry because they were constantly fed through the IVs.

"Where are your friends?" Scilica asked.

"They're out with a group of beginners, one group a piece." Emma said. They had left her to care for the little girl as they deemed the task too intense for Scilica. They were out hunting Wood Bears, probably capable of killing Scilica with one blow. Scilica had been confused and disoriented on the inauguration day and had, as such, fallen behind significantly level-wise. The average player was now level four, Scilica was level one, Emma was level six. When Emma and DragonBlade had found her, she was near-catatonic in a corner of a shop in the Starting City, constantly triggering the storekeeper NPC's greeting mechanism. They had taken her to the makeshift ward that day, were the constant presence of other children her age had quickly gotten her back into proper mental shape.

Emma and Scilica arrived at the city gate, making small talk most of the way. Emma had to admit that Kayaba Akihiko had taken an awful lot of effort when it came to the night sky. No star formation repeated itself, and the night sky reminded her of the pictures taken by the Hubble telescope, a view she would never have back on Earth. Funny, how she thought of Aincrad as a separate planet, one that they had to clear to make it back home. Scilica announced that she was well enough to walk once they were inside the city. Emma liked the first floor, all of the non-dungeon, non-forest area creatures were passive and not too hard to defeat. Scilica kept promising Emma that she would go out with her to train at some point, but she hadn't as of yet.

"Hey, look, Scilica-chan!" Emma said, pointing to a candy vendor in the corner. Scilica looked drowsily at Emma, who merely shepherded Scilica over to the stand. After a brief exchange, Emma purchased some cotton candy for both of them, talking about the night sky as they went back to the inn.

"Thank you, Naina-san, for doing this for me." Scilica said, as they entered the double-bed room.

"You're welcome. Get some rest, we'll go out to train in the morning." Emma said, putting Scilica in her bed while she pulled the covers over her.

"Would you sing me a lullaby?" Scilica asked. She might have been twelve and she might have been full of spunk in real life, but Scilica was the equivalent of a scared and disoriented toddler in SAO.

"Sure." Emma said, and started gently humming one. Scilica fell asleep shortly, allowing Emma to go to bed.

.

"Rise and shine!" Emma said, yanking the covers off of Scilica's bed. Scilica gave a short yawn and got dressed quickly, showing her to be an early riser.

"What are we doing today?"

"We are going to hunt Frenzy Boars until you are level three, then we'll start moving on to Wolves and finally to Wood Bears. If we start now, we might have you to level five by the end of the day." Emma said excitedly, Scilica merely sighed wearily.

"Do we have to move along this fast?" Scilica asked.

"Yes. The sooner you learn to survive and are capable of doing so, the sooner I can begin to help other people. Over a thousand players have already died in this stupid game, and I don't want you to be one of them." Emma said. "You will need better equipment than that. Since you're going to be on the front lines, I might as well lend you this." Emma took off her Steel Chestplate and handed it to Scilica along with her Anneal Blade +2. "They're on a loan, so don't think of keeping them."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Scilica said, looking at the equipment with awe. The Steel Chestplate was a fairly common piece of armor, but the Anneal Blade was obtained through a quest that had already claimed the lives of seventeen players. The fact that it was also +2 made it even rarer, most people with an Anneal Blade being unwilling to risk the sword to an improvement process, it's base damage being high enough for floor one, the +2 making it border the high. The Steel Chestplate molded itself to Scilica's torso, but the Anneal Blade was the same size for all players, making Scilica look sort of silly with such a huge blade, even though she had the STR parameters to wield it as easily as a common kitchen knife. Emma donned an Iron Chestplate and equipped a Steel Sword +4.

"Well, let's go hunting!"

Emma and Scilica spent most of the day out hunting the Frenzy Boars, then the Wolves. Scilica could handle the creatures all right, only needing to switch once with Emma when a Wolf got slightly out of hand. Scilica soon hit level four, and the equipment the mobs had dropped along with the col meant she could look forward to some better equipment once they got back to town.

"Let's try a bear." Emma said.

"What!? I can barely handle the Wolves!" Scilica protested.

"Don't worry, you have me along with you, and we'll only take on one."

"All right... I'm not too sure about this though." Scilica said, placing the Anneal blade in front of her instinctively. They both had leather shields by now, Emma assuring her that they didn't need to bring one as it was a fairly common drop for Wolves and Frenzy Boars were easy enough to handle without a shield.

They both moved into the forest, swords and shields at the ready.

"There!" Emma whispered, pointing at a Wood Bear idly wandering around the clearing. Most of the animals encountered by players seemed reasonably realistic, such as the Frenzy Boars and Wolves, then they found Wood Bears. When most players read Argo the Rat's info guide, they assumed "Wood" merely implied that they lived in the forest. They were wrong... Wood Bears were literally bears made out of wood, causing chagrin amongst many at their assumption. Scilica took the lead, charging in while uttering a battle cry. Emma followed, chuckling at Scilica's high-pitched scream while brandishing her own sword. The Wood Bear turned around suddenly, striking with a paw. Scilica blocked it, then yelled:

"Switch!" and Emma pounced in. She struck the bear with the Steel Sword +4 and lowered its health bar by a tenth. Donovan wasn't joking when he said these were the toughest non-dungeon creatures on floor one. The Wood Bear still swung a paw at Emma, who blocked it and repeated the procedure.

"Switch!" Emma said, Scilica joining the fray in Emma's place. Scilica struck with the Anneal Blade +2, bringing the Wood Bears health down by a fifth plus the damage Emma had already done.

"I'm doing it, Naina!" Scilica exclaimed excitedly. Then the party stopped: another Wood Bear charged into the clearing. Their ability to switch was nullified, the amount of enemies equal to the amount of players in combat.

"Remember to block!" Emma reminded Scilica, unable to do any more about the situation than Scilica was. Emma could have taken on a Wood Bear one on one as she was level seven now and therefore slightly above the bears. Scilica was only level four at this point, however, so the bear was two levels above her. _Please don't let her die!_ Emma thought. The fact Scilica was using equipment fit for a level six player might help along with the fact the bear only had seventy percent of its HP left, but Emma had a feeling of dread.

"Don't worry, I'm coming to help!" A voice called out. It was the voice of a man, and for a few moments Emma thought it might be Donovan, Tabor, or DragonBlade. The person that burst out of the bushes was not any of those men, however, rather a completely new one. The man landed on his head first, causing him to roll over onto his rear end, thereby ruining his grand entrance. The man had dirty blonde hair framing a sort of average shaped face. His chin was covered with stubble, giving him a slightly unkempt appearance. The man had apparently had some sort of mask on up to this point, as something black was hanging on to his bob of hair. He was wearing a set of Steel Bracers and a leather trench coat that was sort of dark gray yet sort of dark green at the same time over the starter clothes, also of the same color, and the starting leather armor. He looked up at the bears, who had stopped their relentless assault on the two girls to look at the new addition, and then grinned. The man stood up, allowing Emma to see his physique better, and took out a Two-Handed Sword that Emma recognized to be in the style of German two-handed swords, also known as zweihanders. It even had the Templar-esque cross shape and dimensions. The man was not fat but not skinny, not muscular but not flabby either.

"Step aside, I can take these bears on!" The arrival announced, charging in with his sword. "Switch!" He yelled out, targeting Emma's bear. Emma was now free to take on Scilica's Wood Bear, which she did after yelling _"Switch!"_. Scilica and Emma resumed the same strategy. Scilica still managed to connect a two-hit combo, killing the Wood Bear. The new man fared a lot better than both girls combined against the Wood Bear, killing it in three strikes with his sword.

"Well that takes care of that." The man said, brushing dust off his trench coat.

"I'm level five!" Scilica announced.

"Nice, I already hit level eight." The man said. "I'm Tix, by the way."

"Naina."

"Scilica." After the introductions were done, Tix turned around and looked at both girls, sizing up their equipment. "Say, have you guys been to the dungeon or the labyrinth yet?"

"No, our guild leader said it was too dangerous for us at our levels."

"How high is your leader?"

"He hit level ten yesterday. His name is ShaduSneku." Emma answered. Tix smiled, but Emma couldn't tell if it was earnest or fake.

"Nice, nice. Say, mind if you point me towards him? I'd like to meet this guy. I've been mapping more and more of the dungeon lately and I'd be willing to bet he's mapped areas I haven't."

"Sure, he's over at the Northern Ridge with a group of newbies. They're training on the Wood Bears there."

"Thank you. Take care. Remember that Wood Bears always spawn in pairs!" Tix said, walking away.

Emma and Scilica both headed back to the village, joking about taking on two Wood Bears a piece when they got back. When they made it to the inn, Donovan was waiting for them. After a brief greeting, Donovan announced that they had managed to acquire a large house in Horunka Village now named the 'Aincrad Survival Force HQ.' It had about twenty rooms and players could come and go as they pleased. A reasonably skilled blacksmith named Lizbeth had taken up residence in one of the rooms and repaired all sorts of weapons and armor.

"I'll see you over there!" Donnovan said, waving at Emma and Scilica in equal measure. He was heading off in search of Tix, who Emma and Scilica had pointed towards the forest.

"I would rather join my own guild..." Scilica said.

"What do you mean?" Emma asked.

"Well, It's only been about twenty days since the beginning of the game, but all the male players are already going nuts over me and several other female players. A couple of female players contacted me a while ago and asked me if I wanted to join their guild. I think it would be a good idea to join up."

"As long as you are safe. Remember to come to us if you need any help. Spread the word about the ASF HQ to everyone, we'll be giving out free low-level equipment to players who are still under level three and helping them train up to level five." Emma said. She then stroked Scilica's hair, pondering how Scilica's level-up requirements would soon go into the thousands. While you could get to level seven reasonably fast, it slowed down a bit at that point, the level seven to level eight advancement requiring ten thousand XP. She thought about how Scilica might need words to remember once she got to the hard part. She suddenly smiled and remembered a movie she had watched with Donovan once."And remember: _A spoonful of sugar helps anything go down_."**Booth's Story:** "It's The Little Things..."

**November 30th, 2022. 8:00 AM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 1: Horunka Village Market Square.**

About two thousand players had died up to this point in the Death Game. Sword Art Online had gone from the greatest innovation in gaming to a hellish prison. Booth looked around him, absorbing the sights and sounds around him. He was in the middle of the market square, standing idly. Most players were in a mad rush to clear the game. Not Booth. Booth viewed this as a vacation, albeit a potentially fatal one with responsibilities he had never had before. He had someone who depended on him. His own life was constantly in danger outside safe zones. And he faced a grim reality: They had a time limit whether they liked it or not. Modern medicine had kept people in coma's alive for long periods of time, but the SAO players weren't in a coma.

Booth knew from a small experiment he had conducted, that their bodies were, to some extent, linked to their SAO avatar's body. The SAO avatar didn't have a heartbeat and didn't need to breathe, but two curious things happened when you played SAO: You breathed and you felt your heart even though there wasn't one. You breathed because whether you liked it or not, your real body still had to breathe, and it was one of the few mental commands that went through the NerveGear's neural blockage. You would die otherwise. As for your heartbeat, Booth had placed a video camera pointed at him while he played SAO, during the Beta test, of course. He had then placed himself in "high-risk" situations in the game. He had discovered that his heartbeat had increased dramatically as evidenced by the fact that his body broke into a heavy sweat and his body was breathing like it did after a fight in a martial arts tournament.

Because of these changes, Booth assumed that their case was different from your average coma patient's. Their heart rate increased, that had to have some effect on their calorie intake and physical condition. Therefore, doctors and such might find themselves at loss as to how to treat this, shortening the amount of time they could spend in this state. Then again, the doctors could have modified it a slight bit so that their special needs were covered. _Who knows?_ Booth thought, regretting that he didn't have any medical knowledge. _God knows..._ Booth thought with a chuckle. It had been about twenty-four days since the start of the game, so players were pretty spread out right now. There were populations of players in every village, societies slowly forming.

The biggest of these was located in Horunka Village, the guild Aincrad Survival trainers amassing quite a following and slowly teaching their doctrine to a few hundred players. What resulted was a society of paragons, trying to help everyone else. They were still far apart from what you would call the "clearers." They were men and women who "selflessly" (and Booth could not stress those quotation marks enough) took on the brunt of clearing the game. This conveniently caused them to have more col and better equipment along with a higher level than everyone else. Two of the one hundred official clearers were, however, part of the AST, actually the main leaders. Despite his lengthy trail of thought on the subject, Booth could not care less.

Everyone was in such a rush to clear the game. Booth followed a more analytical way. He slowly stopped, analyzed the situation, and decided what the best situation to deal with it was. The way he saw it, the rush to clear the game was a bad idea and would get too many people killed. Because of this, Booth had a very laid back way of approaching the clearing of the game. He went along at his own pace, figuring out things and reporting most of it to Argo, allowing other people to access the information and not go through Booth's careful trial-and-error method, which they would probably botch anyways in his opinion, to figure out these things. He always informed anonymously, however, hating public attention.

Today was a Sunday, so he followed his regular, real life routine. He was determined to enjoy the little things after all. He walked into Horunka Village's only chapel, if you could call it that, and spent the rest of the morning in there, reading his Bible passively. He had actually found one in the game, set in mostly for the theme of the church. It was, of course, a King James Version, but Booth didn't mind. A Bible was a Bible after all. He mused on what he read, he strummed his lyre a little bit while he gently crooned a hymn or two. He spent a grand total of four hours, then left. His Musical Instrument skill had gone up, bringing him one point closer to the mythical seventy required to go from five to six. He still didn't care, however, so he went outside to muse on his current situation.

He settled on a hillock to the east of Horunka Village, near one of the large pillars that held up the floor above them. There were twenty pillars, each of them a massive dungeon. Only one had a Floor Boss Room in them, causing irritation to the clearers who were trying to find it. It had been in the third pillar to the east of the Starting Town, but now it was somewhere else. The death toll was rising as players conserved their pre-Death Game strategies to clear dungeons, a much more cautious and methodical method required now. Booth idly mused on where the Boss Room might be, when an armor-clad player walked by, a shining pillar of white paladin-ness. He set down his huge shield so it leaned on his left waist, then leaned his spear on his shoulder, freeing up both his hands. He promptly used both to take off his helmet, shaking his sweaty hair out of his face. He had evidently come back from grinding, or he was heading from one area to another for whatever reason.

"'Sup?" Booth asked as he lay against the tree. He waved his hand, the fingerless gloves he had on accentuating his pale fingertips.

"Hello. What are you doing out here?" The player asked, hefting his shield and spear and walking over.

"Just resting. Thinking about life. How 'bout you?" Booth asked, yawning and stretching.

"What?!" The player exclaimed.

"Wat?" Booth asked, distorting his voice to make his English slightly funny sounding.

"Everyone is working hard to clear the game and you're just resting?! What level are you?!" The player asked angrily.

"Five." Booth answered simply. The player was obviously a tank, working in groups to take down large enemies. Definitely a clearer. Booth was a one-handed, no shield hooded cloak-wearing solo player. His hood rested on his head even now. He probably looked like scum anyways.

"So you're just gonna leech off of everybody while we pass the game? Sit back and relax while people are dying?"

"Nah... I'm just waiting to get the facts straight. If you rush in with no info, how do you expect to win?"

"So you're just going to let everyone else die to get that info for you?"

"Nope, I'm just admitting to the fact that I alone couldn't change their ways, so I might as well share my views with those I can. You seem to have influence... I bet you could spread my ideologies."

"Why would I? Convince everyone to just sit back and relax? Do nothing?"

"No, just convince them to sit down and think, as I do." Booth said. "Did you know that a Wood Bear is level six and grants a total of one hundred XP as a reward along with ten col?"

"Of course I do! I've been hunting them all day long instead of sitting around and lazing while everyone else dies!" The player exclaimed angrily.

"Did you know that up in the tippity top of that pillar right there-" Booth pointed off to a pillar resting in the middle of Knee-High Forest "there is a mob called Ruin Kobold Trooper that's only level five but gives two-hundred XP and forty col."

"Bull." The player said.

"I kid you not. I train on them."

"Then why are you so low level?"

"Because I sit and wait for people like you to relay the information to others. Argo already knows, it's coming out in two days in the most recent edition of her guide. You're NickFrost, vice-commander of the guild Aincrad Survival Trainers." Booth said. "I figure you can relay that information even sooner to all of the guild members, and thus to all of your followers, and their followers in turn."

"I'll tell them. That still doesn't give you a right to leech off of everybody else, though."

"Call it leeching if you will, I call it passive assistance. Now, if you excuse me, I have to check up on someone." Booth said, stretching luxuriously on the ground. NickFrost glared away at Booth as he walked away.

"What's your name?" NickFrost called after Booth.

"Kaihaku. Why do you ask?" Booth asked.

"So I can tell you 'I told you so' in your face when your strategy backfires."

"Whatever man." Booth called out, leaving.

**November 30th, 2022. 8:13 PM.**

**Floor 1: Mountainside Village Residential Area, Eri and Booth's house/Eri's shop.**

"How's it going?" Booth asked Eri when he walked in.

"Fine. Some guild ordered a full set of customized armor, gray and blue. I'm still having some difficulty mastering the 'Custom Armor' function." Eri said, looking up from her work, her face drenched in sweat. Booth took off his cloak, leaving his gray tank top on. He slung his curved sword on his waist instead of his back, moving to his more relaxed setting.

"Who are they?" Booth asked, examining her handiwork. The crafting and style reminded him of NickFrost's armor. He picked up a plate, tapping on it with his knuckle. The armor sounded and felt heavy.

"A group of three players. Call themselves the Divine Dragon Alliance. It's a small guild, but they already look strong." Eri said, flipping her current piece over and masterfully wielding her hammer to craft the plate.

"Hmmm." Booth said, examining an ornate sword. "This is going to cost them I guess..." Eri suddenly swore as the steel plate shattered under a wrong hammer stroke.

"Shit." She said, causing Booth to wince, as she watched the blue moxes of light float away and burst.

"Well that was harsh."

"No, you don't understand. This order was going to cover the costs of getting new materials... now I have nothing, that was my last steel ingot..."

"I'll get you some." Booth offered.

"No... you're what, level five? you probably couldn't really afford that much col anyways from your col storage." Eri said, fretting over the lost work. "The order is due tomorrow anyways."

"Give me two hours." Booth said soberly. "I'll get you the three copper and two iron to make the steel."

"Don't kill yourself."

"Wouldn't even dream of it." Booth said, cupping her face in his hands. "Trust me."

"Then go, silly." Eri said, playfully pushing him away while she laughed. Booth unslung his sword, put the cloak on, and slung his sword again. He grabbed a pickaxe off the wall and stuck it in his belt while he tightened it, securing the pickaxe.

**November 30th, 2022. 8:37 PM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 1: Mount Kirinoya Slopes.**

Booth looked up the slope, eying the path warily. There were monsters that were higher level than he was up here, and he was in no mood to fight them. He quickly grasped the rock ledge over him, pulling himself up. His Free-Running Skill was higher than all of his combat skills combined, so he planned to use that to his advantage rather than fret over how low his combat skills were. He watched warily as the monsters below him searched for the player they detected but could not see. They never thought to look above. Booth looked at the fire lizard, its copper scales gleaming in the moon's eerie glow.

Booth almost slipped, some pebbles loosening his grip, but he quickly caught his holding again. The Fire Lizard didn't notice, however, so Booth continued. He arrived at the quarry safely, massaging his sore arm. _Tomorrow I am going to _pay_... _Booth thought bitterly. He unhooked the pickaxe from his belt and proceeded to mine three copper and two iron. He then heard a sort of steady yet labored breathing, broken by a sob or two.

"Hello?" Booth called out.

"Who's there?" A man's voice asked.

"My name is Kaihaku. I'm a player." Booth said, rounding the corner. A man sat there, looking at him with bloodshot eyes. "Who are you?"

"My name is Winter." the man said. He had snow white hair and a beard to match his name.

"What are you doing here?" Booth asked the man.\

"I... I... I don't know. My wife and I were just playing the game, but it's not a game anymore and now she's dead and I don't know what to do and..." Winter rambled on and on incoherently, reducing himself to babbling and crying.

"There's a woman in the Starter City. Her name is Sasha." Booth said, crouching next to him and putting an arm around his shoulder.

"I... I..." The man said, staring off blankly into space. "There's only one way to clear this game. One way to get out."

"And what would that be?" Booth asked.

"Suicide."

"I used to think that as well, in real life." Booth said, looking at the man straight in his eyes, disapproval and admonishment strongly burning in his voice. "When I was six, my father and older brother died in a car crash. My sister, mom, and I were left alone in a house. You know what she did? She commited suicide and left my sister and I alone, at three and six years of age alone on the street. She just quit life, not caring about anyone else."

"And why would I care about your dead mother." Winter asked coldly.

"Because you are my mother all over again." Booth stated angrily. "If you commit suicide, that's one sword less on the front lines. That's one sword less fighting to clear this game. If you must die, die with a sword in your hand while doing something useful! For twelve long years, I had to do some of the oddest and most disgusting jobs to bring enough money back home to feed her, let alone myself. I fought my way through High School, refusing any help from anyone else while supporting my sister and I. I helped her get engaged to a man who could take care of her better than I could, then I set off on my own to Japan to make my life. But there was a period of time, three months, where I gave up on life." Booth rolled up his coat's sleeves, showing his very scarred wrists. "My sister and a minister saved me, and they kept me going."

"Why are you telling me this?" Winter asked, but Booth was already seeing some change in his demeanor.

"Because of what kept me alive: The little things. Getting an A on the test. Going from a white belt to a yellow belt. Bringing home enough money to feed both of us properly for once. Making it through High School. Getting a job. Getting a scholarship to one of the most prestigious colleges in Japan. Set small, achievable goals and just keep going after them." Booth said, offering his hand. Winter took it.

"I am not used to receiving gifts just like that. Here." Winter tapped his inventory window and handed Booth one hundred twenty seven copper and ninety five iron. "You probably need this more than I do. You're right, if I must die, I might as well die doing something useful." Winter said. "This doesn't change things. You didn't help me, just reshaped my suicidal desires. At least they are for the better." Booth looked oddly at Winter. He had the oddest way of relating to people. Brutally honest, all too aware of his feelings. Cynical as well. Winter walked out, Booth following him shortly after.

**November 30th, 2022. 9:47 PM.**

******Floor 1: Mountainside Village Residential Area, Eri and Booth's house/Eri's shop.**

"You're back early." Eri said, getting up from where he was sitting.

**Tabor's Story:** "Illfang"

**November 30th, 2022, 12:00 PM**

**Aincrad, Floor 1: Floor Dungeon.**

Tabor brandished the One-Handed Assault Spear in one hand, the Steel Shield in the other. It was a bulky clunk of metal, but his STR parameters were sufficient to wield it effortlessly. All equipment in the game had equipping requirements. Some were simply "Leather Equipment Level Twenty required" while others, such as his shield were "Heavy Shield Equipment Level Thirty, STR 50 required." But he better pay attention to the fight with the Kobold right now. He blocked the Kobold with the shield, the massive dog-human-thing wielding a butcher's cleaver pushed Tabor back a couple of feet, but Tabor had allowed that to happen. The Kobold had been slightly too close for Tabor's Steel Spear +6, but now it was in perfect range. Tabor made the mental switch required to go from defense to offense, costing him a full second, then thrusted with the spear, impaling the Kobold and pinning it against the wall. Tabor's Spear slowly drained the Kobold's HP down to zero, then it burst into fragments. Tabor let out a sigh and took out his mirror, the one Kayaba Akihiko had gifted him. He kept it out of sentimental value, and because he discovered a funny function for it. You could modify your hair style and its color with it along with acquiring scars and putting on make up. He looked into it, his steel gray eyes looking right back. The Kobold had slashed him across the face, leaving the characteristic orange-red mark. _Do I want this one?_ Tabor thought, then went ahead and saved it, the slash turning into scar tissue. _I look badass_ Tabor thought.

"Hullo! You train at night as well?" A scruffy looking man asked.

"Yeah, that way you avoid crowds. Not many players venture this far up into the dungeon anymore, I'm only here because I'm level eleven."

"Eleven?!" The man exclaimed.

"There's five of us: My friend Donovan, some guys named Kirito and Diabel, a girl named Yamata, and another guy named Heathcliff." Tabor said.

"I'm barely level eight..." The man said.

"What are you doing up here then! That's the Kobold's level!" Tabor said. "This isn't some game anymore, it's life or death."

"I know. I'm looking for your friend Donovan." the man said. "I was also training on the Ruin Kobold Troopers. There's a room full of them back there."

"Alone?"

"I can kill them with one swipe using Kaiser's Mauler." The man said, pulling a two handed sword out of its holster. "I got it in a quest, it's damage is 100 since I made it 4D1H."

"That's my spear right here as well." Tabor said, raising up the Assault Spear. "It's 3S2D1H"

"You already have a weapon with 'Sharpness'?"

"You should go to the Aincrad Survival Force HQ. We have a blacksmith there, her name is Lizbeth. She already hit level 100 in each of her smithing skills. It's amazing how much she works..."

"Maybe I will... So where's Donovan?"

"He's back at the HQ. We finally raised the average player level to six, so we're thinking of disbanding soon. He's still helping publish the guide along with Argo."

"A noble task indeed. I'll head over." The man suddenly turned as if forgetting something. "My name's Tix by the way, we should party one of these days!"

"Maybe I will. The Kobolds are going to respawn in about ten seconds though, I'd get out."

"Will do. I'll see you around." Tix said, running out of the room. Sure enough, two Kobolds spawned. They saw Tabor, who backed into a little corner so he only had to worry about the front. Tabor had become a full-blown tank, easily the strongest player in raw power. He was sure that would change, however, as he had made his build public knowledge. A lot of people were copying it, so the tank class was becoming stronger and stronger. The first one swung its cleaver, and Tabor realized he had been in offense the whole conversation and forgotten. He made the mental switch barely in time, however, the offense-defense switch only taking half a second. The cleaver lowered his shield down and dug into his shoulder, causing a sensation akin to pain, but not painful in itself. Tabor pumped the shield up, causing the Kobold to lose its balance and step back, he made the switch to offense, pierced the second Kobold's chest, and moved back into defense mode. The whole sequence took two seconds.

"bring it on!" Tabor yelled at the Kobolds, a pointless gesture really. But so was breathing and eating, their avatars needing neither of those. People still did it, however, because they were used to it. The first Kobold struck again, then the second one. The first one had full health, but the second only had seven eighths left. Tabor had blocked both successfully, then pumped the second one and struck again with his spear after switching to offense. He saw the gap in their defenses and struck twice more knocking both back. He continued striking, masterfully switching targets. While SAO still depended a lot on the skill system, there was something that could be referred to as Outside Skills. Tabor's fast reflexes and capability to switch targets so fast would count as that.

Tabor switched back into defensive again, just to be safe, then waited for the Kobolds to attack. The first one was at 3/4 while the second was at 5/8. Tabor blocked both of their Butcher's Cleavers, then struck, but the sword skill didn't trigger as normal. The whole premise of the combat system in SAO was that players were not real sword fighters in real life, so when you swung your sword, battleaxe, etc. a certain way, the Sword Skill would trigger and make the player do a hit. Tabor felt the sword skill start, then let himself do it. The results were surprising: He struck the first Kobold in the face with the spear, leaving a diagonal slash, then again with another diagonal slash to form an X, and finally he switched his grip on the spear holding it over his head with thumb facing towards him rather than at his waist with thumb facing outwards, and struck a powerful blow into the center of the X, killing the Kobold. _A three hit combo?_ Tabor thought, knowing several sword users to have discovered combos, but nothing existed for the spear users yet. Tabor switched to defensive, blocked the blow from the Kobold, and then struck at it the same way he had: a forward blow where his arm was fully extended and he swung with his waist. The sword skill activated again, and he struck the Kobold in the face three times. It only had one eighth of its health left, meaning the blow dealt precisely half of a Kobold's health with a Steel Spear +6.

Tabor eyed the Kobold evenly and coldly, bashing it in the shield and then striking with the normal one-hit strike of the spear, killing the Kobold.

"Well, that was interesting." Tabor said. The little victory icon popped up, and Tabor saw the results: 500 Exp and 100 Col. He then wearily looked at his level up counter and assigned the reward XP to his One-Handed Assault Spear skill besides the XP he had gained in the battle by striking the Kobolds. _6,570/17,000_ it read. 10,430 XP more and his One-Handed Assault Spear level would go up, assigning yet another point to his overall level. But the overall level raising requirement had gone up. From level one to level two it had only been ten skill points. from two to three, it had been twenty. From three to four, it had been fifty. This was also besides the fact that the amount of XP required to level up a specific skill went up as you leveled it.

The only reason why he and Donovan were so high level was because they grinded _constantly_. Never feeling hunger and barely sleeping six hours a day, both were convicted they had to get everyone out, and being as strong as possible included that. Most players were barely level six at this point, the XP required to level up to high for them to level up quickly considering their schedules, some players sleeping and eating and spending time with their friends. After the mad rush on day one, two, and three, most players had sort of calmed down, the amount of dead players sobering them up. Most players now had something resembling a life. Some had become shopkeepers and merchants, having decided that the warrior life was not for them. Others such as Tabor and Donovan and the others had become great leaders, paragons of the civilization that had formed. Others, were just leeches. Tabor had come across a player who was just sleeping, s_leepin_g_!_, in a field. The man's name had been Kaihaku, and Tabor hated people like him. He was only level _five_ and he was lazing around while all of the other players did all the work.

Tabor gave a sigh of indignation at Kaihaku's lack of diligence and then looked at his col counter. 4,327. _For two Kobolds... this is very profitable_. Tabor was sure that he would be earning easily ten times that per monster when they got to floor... say ten or twelve. The Kobold was still the hardest things that the players had encountered up to this point, however, so Tabor wondered what type of monster would give 5000 Exp and 1000 Col.

"Might as well explore a little bit." Tabor said to no one in particular, and started walking out the door. His Steel Boots clanged on the ground, announcing his presence to just about anything in the other room. He'd never been a stealth player anyways. He had walked around idly for about two hours, slaying Kobolds and Ruin Kobold Troopers at random when he came across a door to a room. He noticed it had a bit of a more ornate pattern on it, piquing his curiosity. The door was also significantly larger.

"And what's this?" Tabor said, pushing the door open. He looked inside, just sticking his head in. _This room is HUGE!_ Tabor thought, imagining the last word echo around the room. he stepped in, spear and shield at the ready. It must have been as if someone hit a switch, because the lights suddenly turned on, revealing how truly massive the room was. At the end, there sat a massive creature, about three times the size of a Kobold and with the same general appearance. Three bursts of blue light suddenly appeared, revealing three creatures similar to Ruin Kobold Sentinels but with maces instead of axes. Tabor suddenly realized something: _This must be the boss room!_ Tabor beat a slow but steady retreat, knowing full well the lethal speed of the Ruin Kobold Troopers. _If I give them my back side, I'm done for!_ Tabor thought, making sure not to step on his dark blue cape. When all three got close, Tabor finally saw their names. The boss was Illfang the Kobold Lord while the three skittering humanoids were Ruin Kobold Sentinels. Their levels suddenly flashed and Tabor almost tripped out of fear. Illfang was level twenty, the Sentinels were level ten. _I can't fight these guys_ Tabor thought _Not alone, at least._ Tabor raised his shield, then suddenly got an idea. He blocked the first Sentinel, then the second, and finally the third, all three striking him in a chain of blows. Their damage went through the shield, much to Tabor's annoyance, as his 3000/3000 HP became 2673/3000. Illfang was last, and Tabor implemented his idea. He jumped at last second, allowing Illfang to hit Tabor even harder, but Tabor also flew out of the room, making him safe from the monsters inside. He hit the wall, slumping into a mass at the bottom. He looked up, watching Illfang and his Sentinels yip and yap in frustration, programmed so they were incapable of leaving the boss room. He was at 250/3000 HP, setting his hair on edge. _That was close..._ Tabor thought.

**November 31st, 2022, 4:05 AM**

**Aincrad, Floor 1: Starter Village**

"You did what?!" Argo exclaimed, waving her hands around.

"I found the boss room, quiet down." Tabor said angrily.

"Why don't you tell Donovan or another one of the clearers?" Argo said.

"Because I don't want to tell them the location. I do want it to be known to everyone else what type of boss it is."

"Why not the location as well?"

"Can you imagine if all of a suddenly every single player, regardless of level, heard about the location? All would rush, only to perish, in the hopes of making it to the second floor. I want a leader, and a charismatic one, to help me by organizing a group of the elite, _then_ going to kill the boss."

"All right, what info do you have?"

"It's a ginormous Kobold, and his name is Illfang the Kobold Lord."

"That's the exact same as the Beta test!" Argo exclaimed excitedly.

"He has three helpers, Ruin Kobold Sentinels." Tabor continued, slightly irked at the interruption.

"Exactly like the Beta."

"And he has an axe that looks like a Bone Axe and has a Leather Shield as well."

"This is great news, that means it is exactly like the Beta test. I'll notify the rest of the players in the next edition. By the way, I think I have your man: he is a clearer along with you. His name is Diabel."

"I'll remember to tell him." Tabor said, walking away.

**DragonBlade's Story:** "Into Hell and Back" ft. Tix

**December 1st, 2022, 1:05 PM**

**Aincrad, Floor 1: Aincrad Survival Force HQ**

"DragonBlade, this is the newest member of the guild: His name is Tix." Donovan said, indicating at the man standing in the doorway. DragonBlade walked over to Tix, and sized him up. Tix wasn't exceptional physically, neither fat nor skinny, neither strong nor weak. Tix was sizing up DragonBlade as well, noting DragonBlade's red duster. It was a "unique" item. By unique, it meant that it wasn't generic and had its own attributes to it and had a special name. "Unique" items could still be acquired by a certain amount of players depending on the level of the unique item. Something really high like a specific Demon Sword might only be acquirable by ten players. The red duster, The Devil's Coat as it was called, could probably be acquired by about a thousand or so players. The Devil's Coat was a Leather Cloak with an AP of 78, a max hammer number of ten, and its special ability was that it gave the user +50 HP at the cost of -1 DEX, the -X DEX was determined by the amount of hammer applied, meaning it could, at most, give him +500 HP at the cost of 10 DEX. This meant that DragonBlade would perform actions determined by DEX, such as switching from offensive to defensive mode on a shield, take slightly longer than usual. DragonBlade didn't really care, having developed his Parry skill so he could have a free hand while wielding his Steel Scimitar +4, meaning his DEX stats didn't matter too much. While some players did this just for style, DragonBlade justified it by stating he could access his healing items quicker with his off hand this way.

"The name's Tix."

"DragonBlade."

"I am sure you two will get along legendarily." Donovan said. Anything being "legendary" in gamer speak would be like saying "awesome" or "extraordinary" for normal people. "I have an assignment for you two: A player died trying to complete the quest 'Death's Handyman.' To prevent this from happening, I have placed a recommendation that no one under level six attempts it, the player being level five when she attempted it, and I want you two to clear it so we can publish a guide and make the quest easier to pass for all people. Since you are both level ten, I have no worries about either of you dying."

"Very well." Tix and DragonBlade said in unison.

"I also wanted to notify you that once we clear Floor 1, the Aincrad Survival Force is being disbanded. We have over five hundred guild members and we are basically just a massive quantity of reporters for Argo. Once we disband, many of the little cliques that have been formed inside will be able to form into guilds and the drops for each individual will be increased, noting the fact I've been receiving quest rewards for quests I haven't even participated and/or completed just because a guild member did it."

"I think it's a great decision." DragonBlade said. The logic was sound, and he was right. He'd only earned two col for doing a quest instead of the one thousand col usually gained simply because all the col was distributed among the guild.

"I just joined, but it seems like a wise decision." DragonBlade and Tix walked out the doorway, leaving Donovan to attend to his work.

"By the way, the quest policy changed. Whoever does a quest must leave the guild, then they can rejoin again so that they get what they earned." DragonBlade said to Tix.

"All right, guess I'm ending the affiliation with this guild temporarily. Why do we rejoin anyways? Why not just call yourself part of the guild?"

"Because players everywhere have come to recognize our logo and our uniform as indicating the person is an instructor and is willing to protect them and give them advice while they power level." DragonBlade said. "You are a guild member just so you can wear the logo and the cap." The official guild uniform was just a brown leather woodsman cap with ear flaps pinned up, the logo was the Swiss Army Knife brand logo. It was a "unique" item, acquirable by anyone in the guild. The way guild items/uniforms worked is that they visually replaced what the player had been wearing, but the player's armor's stats still acted as if the player was actually wearing them. Since they weren't part of the guild anymore, DragonBlade's head was bare again and Tix had his usual black mask on and was busy selecting his black makeup on so only his bright green and blue eyes would show.

"Where are we headed?" Tix asked.

"Torubana Town. After that we're going to the cemetery there."

The trip took them two hours to complete, the monotony broken only by monster fights and brief conversations.

"Here we are!" DragonBlade announced, walking into the cemetery. A blue-jacketed NPC with gray pants was observing them idly from behind a chapel, the top half of its bob of blonde hair covered by the decorative cross at the front of the chapel. The quest triggered at midnight, so Tix and DragonBlade merely rested and exchanged information in idle and sparse conversation. Tix was a bit aloof and removed, not caring much about others he did not truly know. DragonBlade was very shy. The combination made for a very boring conversation. The NPC was looking at them the whole time, its almond red eyes never leaving DragonBlade's scimitar.

"I wonder if he's the quest assigner." Tix commented.

"Nah, Donovan said that it was a Grim Reaper. I wonder who that NPC is..." DragonBlade said. "Here, I'll poke him." Poking an NPC was the action of initiating a conversation, though it wasn't a literal act of poking, merely a 'request' for a conversation. Most NPCs were shopkeepers, so poking them would open up their store interface. With random NPCs, it triggered dialog or started quests. The poke was ineffective, however, as the NPC did not respond. It did get slightly mad, so DragonBlade wondered if that was all poking it did: angered it. That was its only programmed response.

"You think I'm an NPC!?" The boy said.

"You're a player?" Tix said, spitting out the tea he had been drinking.

"My name's Sora. Yes, I'm a player." the boy said, walking into full light. His little icon appeared over his head, confirming him as a player.

"What are you doing here?"

"Completing a quest. It's called 'Death's Handyman.'" Sora said.

"we are as well. Do you have the time?" DragonBlade asked.

"11:59 PM." Sora said blankly. Being confused with an NPC had apparently angered him more than it appeared.

"It's starting!" Tix announced. A Grim Reaper had appeared and was hovering over a tombstone.

"Would you trade one man's death for another?" The Grim Reaper asked. A quest bubble appeared on each player's display.

"Yes." DragonBlade, Sora, and Tix said in unison, starting the quest for all three.

"Then enter the Bowels of Hell!" The Grim Reaper exclaimed, and all three were forcibly teleported into the Bowels of Hell.

**December 1st, 2022 12:05 PM**

**Aincrad, Floor 1: The Bowels of Hell**

DragonBlade looked around in surprise, scimitar at the ready. two red icons appeared on his interface along with their respective health bars and the denominator "Flayer Imp" -Level 6-.

"Imps, huh? I'd expected a Cacodemon or something like that." DragonBlade said, remembering the last MMORPG he had played: Dante's Tale. The two imps jumped out, looking just like he had expected: The stereotypical 'Devil' figure, but squashed down to about four feet tall. They both had whips with multiple flayers, something that would go beyond his Parry skill. He needed to kill the little suckers fast. One of them pounced, whipping the flail around. DragonBlade dodged in time, using his Acrobatics skill to get on top of the nearest pillar. The room was made entirely by red stone with the occasional bout of flame here and there. The room had several pillars, most of them with a sort of "melted" appearance to them. He took out one of his throwing knives, more like overgrown needles really, and threw it at the imp, knocking his health down by a half. The Throwing Knives Skill was the only skill in the game allowing ranged attacks that people had discovered so far. DragonBlade pounced down and struck at the other imp with his scimitar using a three-hit combo. The imp burst into blue lights at the second blow, but the sword skill made the combo continue. The first imp took its chance upon seeing this and flayed DragonBlade across the back, knocking his health down by a tenth. DragonBlade had also noticed that neither Sora nor Tix was with him.

"You little insolent-" DragonBlade began, spinning around and performing a whirlwind sword skill on the little imp. It burst into blue lights, and DragonBlade was awarded forty Col.

"Just forty?" DragonBlade said, surprised. A deep throated, demonic laugh suddenly burst out.

"BWAHAHAHA! Round 2... BEGIN!" The voice exclaimed, four imps appearing. DragonBlade suddenly understood why the player had died: The imps would keep reappearing with increasingly large numbers until they swarmed a player, or the player beat the "arena." DragonBlade clutched his blade, knowing he had to use a two-hit combo on each one and move around fast. He smiled grimly, wondering if the two-to-four increase was because each round doubled the amount of imps or it just added two. He uttered a silent prayer to whatever gods ruled in Aincrad that Sora, Tix, and he might survive this fight, then focused on the six imps that had just spawned with round three.

.

Tix swung his zweishander, catching three imps in its green arc of light and killing all three. The massive sword was enough to kill all three imps with one blow, killing up to four and then just cutting their HP down to a fourth. Tix sighed as he noticed his health was at a mere eleventh of the bottom. _That was some fight..._

"BWAHAHAHA! Round 10... BEGIN!" The demonic voice announced again, increasing Tix's frustration. _Another one?!_ he thought, thinking of how he had just gone through twenty imps. He quickly chugged a healing potion, bringing his health back up to maximum, and then threw the empty bottle, surprisingly triggering a sword skill, at an imp, knocking it back and bringing its health down to a tenth. The imps, thankfully, only spawned in groups of six and then a group with whatever was left over, the round before the previous one being six imps, then six again, and then just four. Tix went through all six imps, not taking a single hit in all of his ire, and then turned on the six new ones. They flayed his face twice, much to his annoyance, bringing his health down by a fourth, before he dealt with all six. He turned around and got whipped again by an imp, then swung wildly, cutting through two imps. He had left himself wide open, however, and two more imps whipped his face. He swung again, killing the remaining imps, then dealt with the next four.

"BWAHAHAHA! Boss round... Begin!" The voice announced, causing Tix to look up.

.

"BWAHAHAHA! Boss round... Begin!" Sora looked up in despair. At level eight, he'd barely been able to handle the imps, having drunk half of his supply of healing potions. He had always been afraid of demons and devils and other such hellish things ever since his childhood, but he was finding that he was overcoming the fear.

"What have you done to my torture subjects?" A wilting voice asked, punctuating the sentence with maniacal jester laughter. The boss had two health bars as opposed to the Floor Boss's rumored four, but he still was a formidable looking opponent. It wielded a fiery whip made from human finger bones surrounded by ardent flames in each hand, and its twisted and macabre face was being a flat sheet of flesh over a skull, constantly ripping its skin to maintain the shape of its fiery eyes and grinning mouth, made of fire as well. The constant ripping caused blood to constantly flow down its face, but Sora had a sickening feeling that it wasn't the devil's blood. It had an iron cross painfully nailed unto its face. Its horns protruded from the sides of its head in wild, twisted patterns. The two health bars filled with green, and its name appeared: "Hatebound Devil."

Sora screamed in surprise at his new opponent, not to mention in fear, looking at its hulking physique covered in dark red skin and loincloth made out of leather which looked like it came from human skin.

"You will pay for this!" The Hatebound Devil roared, and charged in. Sora pounced to the side, barely avoiding the two whips. A little notification appeared: "Party-up Accept?" it said it was from someone named DragonBlade and someone named Tix was in the party list already. _The guys at the cemetery!_ Sora suddenly realized, quickly accepting the party invitation. With a flash of blue light and a mighty roar, DragonBlade and Tix suddenly appeared, both impaling Hatebound Devil with their weapons. It roared in pain, both men continuing to charge until they impaled it into a rock formation. Sora joined with a battle cry and began to strike the demon across the face with his One-Handed Straight Sword. The demon roared in surprise, its first health bar reaching the red, then draining.

"JUMP!" DragonBlade yelled out, all three jumping back, Tix because he knew what was coming and Sora because DragonBlade said so. Hatebound Devil suddenly burst into flames, causing a massive explosion that barely missed all three players.

"CHARGE!" Tix yelled, all three players promptly impaling Hatebound Devil again. And again. And again. And again. When it finally burst into blue light, all three players slumped down onto the rock formation.

"Thank goodness we found you." DragonBlade said. "Once we realized we had started the quest completely alone, we both deduced it was because we forgot to party up. We took you in once we realized you might not be that high level."

"Thanks." Sora said. DragonBlade looked at the boy, sizing him up. He was fairly well built, leaning a bit on the skinny side. He had a blue jacket on, with a scabbard on the back. Not much else about him was worth mentioning, however.

"Boss Fight Won." A little voice said, and the congratulations notification appeared on each of their screens.

"Ten thousand Col!" Tix exclaimed.

"Five thousand EXP!" DragonBlade exclaimed, each player got 1666 XP, causing DragonBlade to laugh at the last three digits.

"New skill earned... Level twenty item drops?" Sora exclaimed. DragonBlade was now level eleven as was Tix. Sora got boosted to level ten.

"We all have the... Scythe Skill?" DragonBlade said. "My item drop was a Maelstrom Sword. Holy cow, two hundred damage! It's a straight sword though..."

"Kuuri Scythe." Tix said, brandishing a new type of weapon entirely. It was a stereotypical scythe, but it had a serrated edge like a combat knife on the bottom hook. It was made of a black metal that appeared to absorb light, the surroundings visibly darker around them once Tix equipped it. "It has a hundred-fifty stat for damage!"

"Khalni Scimitar." Sora said, offering it to DragonBlade. "It's 210 damage."

"It would be most convenient to trade these out, considering our specializations." Both examined their new swords. The scimitar was made out of a bluish-green metal, almost like turquoise but a bit bluer and lighter. The design reminded DragonBlade of a long, slender leaf. It was heavy, and DragonBlade looked forward to using it. The Maelstrom Sword had a blue blade, but it was sort of surreal in appearance, almost as if it was slightly transparent. The hilt was burnished gold in color, and the whole blade had a dark bluish hue to it, a small burst of aesthetic lightning appearing occasionally. DragonBlade and Tix parted ways with Sora once they were teleported outside, noting that it was already about five in the morning.

"We better get back."

"Yeah, that was a long quest."

**December 3rd, 1:00 PM**

"A mini-dungeon?" Donovan said.

"Yeah. It was all Hell-themed. Here's the report, I guess you can just give it to Argo when you see her." Tix said.

"Gentlemen, I have good news. We have located the boss room for the first floor."

"What? Let's go, now!" Tix said.

"Hold your horses, cowboy. The player who reported it said the boss is hard enough to knock him out of the room with a single blow."

"Come on, we have the top tier players. Six out of the ten official clearers are in this guild!"

"I will say this, I feel awfully tempted to attempt it." Donovan said. Aincrad Survival Force had the most players out of any guild in the top ten. Donovan was actually the highest ranking player. He was level fifteen. He had discovered the Beast Tamer build as well. His Pyro Bird rested groggily in its perch. Donovan had earned everyone's respect as being the strongest player in the game currently. After him, there came Heathcliff. Heathcliff was insane, wielding a long sword and a shield above and beyond everyone else, and he was quickly catching up to Donovan. Trailing Heathcliff's level thirteen character were Tabor and Emma, both of them at level twelve. Then there was a group of about fifteen or so players who were level eleven, then the pyramid kept getting bigger and bigger.

"Let's do it. This isn't like bossing in other games. The player got out and he hadn't defeated the boss, we can retreat any time we want."

"Maybe it _would_ be a good idea to attempt it. Maybe figure out its attack algorithm..."

**Donovan's Story: **"The Weight of the World."

**December 3rd, 2022, 11:47 PM**

**Aincrad, Floor 1: outside the Floor Dungeon Entrance**

Donovan eyed the Floor Dungeon's Door warily. He had gone through it a thousand times and one, yet he always got his feeling of dread. Aincrad Survival Force had been disbanded earlier that day, the Valkyries about to be the first to clear a dungeon. The Valkyries were composed of Emma, Tabor, Donovan, and Tix. Their raiding party was composed of two assault groups: Group Alpha and Group Omega. Group Alpha had the Valkyries in it along with DragnonBlade. They were the highest players with Donovan as the party leader. Group Omega was led by Heathcliff and had five lower-level clearers in it. Namely, Kuradeel, Tanzen, Godfree, and two other female players who Donovan forgot the name of.

Donovan was very confident about this fight. Everyone had at the very least one unique item, DragonBlade being the highest with six items, and their APs were at 200 minimum. Donovan had Emma's starter clothes on under the rest of his equipment, their AP of 10 pushing his overall AP to 300. He had an Advanced Blacksteel Chestplate on under a black Leather Cloak with a hood which he never wore but kept his dreadlocks in place. He had a unique wide-collared dark mahogany cloak, Justicar's Overcloak, on that he kept closed at the front with its straps. It's circular, wide collar had a radius only an inch shorter than his shoulder width and the top of its edge reached to the back end of Donovan's jawbone. It was all trimmed in dark gray matched with dark gray pants. He had on some dark turquoise boots with a dark green trim and style mismatched Blacksteel knee pads. He had a large Two-Handed Steel Broadsword +10 slung on his back in a matté black holster. His dreadlocks were tied up in a ponytail except for one that hung loosely by the side of his face, sort of framing it.

They had been walking for a while in the dungeon, easily defeating any opponent in their way with all eleven of them, when someone suddenly walked out of the corner. She was a curvy young woman who would also be politely described as having 'bountiful bosoms.' She dressed in an intricately patterned white jacket that had a thick black line that ran up the front, splitting into two lines right at the top. These two lines split off and went down her arms. She had a risqué black dress with a high front, barely qualifying as a miniskirt, with sides and back that reached down to her ankles. Her slender and toned legs had sleek black leggings with a dark turquoise trim on them and ended an inch from the skirt. She had a long sword that she kept slung on her back. She coyly played with the curls at the ends of her long light blue hair.

"Hello, boys." She said, biting her lower lip seductively. Aside from how you would usually expect a guy to react physically to her, Donovan was unfazed by the dark seductress in front of them. A red hawk gently settled on her shoulder, cawing at Donovan. Tanzen and Tabor were, unlike Donovan, trying to pick their jaws off the floor. DragonBlade was ruby red and looked like he might just squeal and faint. Emma was sort of mad at the guy's reactions.

"Howdy do?" Donovan answered calmly, walking over and offering to shake her hand. The girl looked slightly annoyed at Donovan's lack of reaction at her considerable attributes. She shook it coldly and with a bit more of a hint of terseness.

"Trona. I heard you're clearing the Boss room. I thought I would come along." she said, getting closer and closer and openly looking at Donovan's thicker than average neck. She ran her finger on the dark gray trim of his over coat.

"Shadu, but I allow my close friends to call me Donovan or just Don." Donovan said, stopping her hand with his own black gloved ones. She gave a huff of irritation at her attempts at seduction being blocked. "If you think you can clear the Boss Room, think again. The lowest level here is eleven."

"I'm level twelve." Trona said flatly, irritated at Donovan's downplaying her. "Look at the listings." Donovan pinched his thumb and pointer together, pulled them down, and brought up the menu. He looked her up in the top level listings, and, sure enough, she was there.

"Join Assault Group Alpha." Donovan said, sending her the party invite.

.

Donovan opened the door, the suspense hanging thick in the air like humidity. The door was dark at first, but it lit up immediately.

"Eyes open, people." Donovan said, slowly and stylishly pulling out his broadsword. The thing was heavy, but Donovan had the STR and, surprisingly, AGI parameters to wield it effectively. His armor barely weighed him down, all of it being Leather Equipment besides the chestplate, knee pads, and some Blacksteel Bracers a Kobold had dropped, so he could move around quickly. The newest addition to their ragtag group, Trona, had proven to be more than efficient. Especially with her bird acting as a warning method for when an enemy at the edges of or outside her vision was about to swing. Donovan's Pyro Bird merely being the closest thing to Magic the game had. It buzzed around and set opponents on fire. So far, the only tameable beasts known, and therefore in the guide book, were the Pyro Bird, Red Hawks, Blue Hawks, and Frenzy Boars. Frenzy Boars were rarely tamed, not because they were uncommon, but because on of the factors to tame an animal successfully were whether or not you had killed any of that type and, if so, how many. But enough of that, Donovan had more important matters at hand than whose pet was better.

"Lights should go on right about... now!" Tabor said. Donovan looked in surprise at his friend. "It's in the guide book."

"Right there! Alpha, get ready to take the brunt. Alpha will deal with Illfang until we can go no longer. Omega deals with Sentinels and switches out with Alpha when we're exhausted or nearly dead!" Donovan ordered. The strategy was basically pot-and-switch, but it was mini-switching inside of the groups while the other one was ready to do the actual switch. Donovan had made sure each group had at least two blockers: Alpha had Tabor and DragonBlade, who had been power leveling all day & night so he could use a shield with the Scimitar. Omega had Heathcliff and Aiko (one of the two female players).

Omega took the three Sentinels head on, literally knocking them back and then attacking them. They were not much stronger than a Trooper, so Omega dealt with them easily, now waiting for Alpha to tire or be worn down. Tabor had just blocked a massive hit from the Bone Axe, forcing him to bend his knees so the shield would stay between him and the Bone Axe and he wouldn't lose his balance. Donovan, Tix, Emma, and Trona all pounced in, striking Illfang with four mighty blows. His first health bar barely went down one twentieth of its total. _Mother of MMOs..._ Donovan thought. Tabor's health had gone down by a tenth when the blow landed, and that was with a shield fully in the way. _Could it be that it has a property that lets it go partially through shields? Maybe even armor?_ Donovan thought. _No matter, we will press on!_

Half an hour passed. Half an hour of endless, high-pitched combat for Alpha. They had just gotten his health down into the red of the second bar. A second set of three Sentinels had appeared, but Omega dealt with them easily. Donovan's health was at half. Tabor was in the last quarter as was DragonBlade. Emma was nearing half along with Tix. Trona was doing remarkably well, only having lost a quarter. The bird _was_ an excellent warning system. Donovan's as-of-yet-unnamed Pyro Bird was fluttering around Illfang's head, in general being a nuisance to the Kobold Lord. _Pest... That would be a good name for it_.

"Donovan, we can't take much more!" Tabor said. Tabor had just blocked another blow, allowing Tix and Emma to go through Illfang's defenses and deal a blow that knocked his second HP bar to zero, but at the cost of half of Tabor's total remaining health.

"Switch!" Donovan said, all of Alpha getting out of the way. Donovan, Emma, and Trona took on the three Sentinels that had spawned as a consequence of Illfang's second HP bar going down to zero. Heathcliff and Aiko bravely switched in, both of them blocking the next blow as one, minimizing the damage to each.

"Tabor, DragonBlade, did you see what they just did? Try doing that instead of blocking individually." Donovan said. Both shield users nodded, glad at the rest they were having. Everyone's HP was going up again, their Battle Healing skills allowing them to do so without expending any potions. A potion would have still been quicker, however. Kuradeel and Godfree broke through, Kuradeel's Two-Handed Sword and Godfree's Two-Handed Battle Axe dealing massive amounts of damage. The second female player, Haru he thought her name was, was having a bit of trouble with a Sentinel that had gotten out of hand. Trona was being blocked by the battle between Illfang and Omega, so she couldn't make it through to the other Sentinel. Tanzen had seen what was happening and was trying to make it to the other side to help, but Illfang's blow intercepted him. Donovan watched in shock as Tanzen flew through the air, his health bar draining as he went. Donovan quickly sprinted in, trying to help. But out of instinct, he did the worst thing he could have done at the moment:

"Switch!" He said reflexively, switching out Omega group for Alpha. Everyone looked in shock at him. Alpha's average health was half, and most were on the ground resting, so Illfang's assault was unexpected. Tabor and Tix flew through the air, knocked back by the Kobold Lord's blade. Neither died, to Donovan's relief, but the assault wasn't over yet. Illfang picked up Trona, preparing to throw her like a rag doll.

"Switch!" Godfree yelled, striking Illfang with the battleaxe. The Sentinels were being annoying, both Heathcliff and Haru were having the time of their lives dealing with both at the same time. Heathcliff was trying to block the blows while Haru was trying to get her balance right. Donovan watched as the whole situation fell apart, then decided to do something drastic:

"We're retreating! Anyone with more than half of his health stay, everyone else, out the door! PARTY DISBAND!" Donovan yelled, freeing everyone from the switch system. Donovan, Aiko, Haru, and Heathcliff battled off the Sentinels while Godfree struggled to get Illfang to let Trona go.

"Everyone, attack!" Heathcliff yelled. _It's everyone for themselves right now, you idiot..._ Donovan thought. Illfang suddenly got between them and the entrance, preventing anyone from going out. Tanzen and Donovan charged in, trying to free up the entrance/exit, but Kobold threw Trona at Donovan. Both teens tumbled and rolled back a good fifty feet, both of their healths barely above a quarter. Donovan rolled the unconscious Trona of himself, then hefted her over his shoulder. He holstered the broadsword and then charged in, yelling a mighty battle cry. Tanzen and Aiko were both doing the Devil's dance with Illfang, the Kobold being surprisingly agile despite his huge gut. Donovan managed to slide through Illfang's legs with Trona, saving both. Heathcliff knocked Illfang back, then came through.

"Tanzen! Aiko! Haru!" Donovan yelled, "I'm coming to help! All right, Pest, do what you do best!" Donovan charged in, stabbing into Illfang's back deeply with his broadsword. The Kobold howled, then whipped around and tossed Donovan into the middle of the room. Aiko and Haru bravely ran over to defend their leader, selflessly placing themselves between the boss and Donovan, unwilling to trade a single inch of ground. Tanzen was more of a nave, however, and tried to make it to the door. Haru stabbed Illfang's side with her assault spear, however, and brought his last HP bar into the red zone. Illfang tossed up the Bone Axe and Leather Shield. Tanzen had almost made it to the door, Tabor's hand extended to pull him through, but the Bone Axe struck Tanzen across the back, killing him. Tabor looked at the burst of blue lights, speechless.

"What's he doing?" Haru asked, looking at Illfang's empty hands. That's when Illfang drew the No-Daichi on his back. Donovan had made it all the way to the eighth floor with the clearers during the Beta test, and they had done a quest against a bunch of Samurai. The Samurai had had Katana skills, so Donovan immediately recognized the weapon.

"Get back! Run!" Donovan screamed, but to no avail. Illfang jumped up, then off a pillar, then off the roof, and brought the blade straight into Haru. Her HP bar had been at a quarter, the blow killed her. Donovan had stood up, and watched the little blue crystals, just as speechless as Tabor had been.

"DONOVAN!" Aiko suddenly yelled, her light body suddenly tackling his. Illfang's blade passed through the air where he had been a mere moment before.

"RUN!" Donovan said, sprinting towards the door. Aiko was in front of him, when suddenly Donovan felt a tingling at his back. A new consciousness took over him. His limbs felt giddy as the adrenaline pulsed through his veins. _It's swinging! I AM GOING TO _DIE_!_ Donovan thought. But a voice said at the back of his head, the small squeak growing and growing until it roared mightily in his ears: _NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!_ Donovan suddenly felt his arms shoot forward out of their own volition, grasp Aiko's shoulders, and spin both players around. The blade struck Aiko's waist, prompting a scream, and the inertia propelled Donovan through the doorway, his miraculous exit framed and intensified by the blue crystals of light that followed him. The doors were immediately shut by Tabor and Tix while a single mox of light landed on Donovan's upturned palm, then disappeared in a smaller burst of light. _What. Have. I. Done!?_ Donovan thought.

"_WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?_" Godfree roared, referring to Donovan's last minute maneuver.

"I... I..." Donovan said blankly. Aiko had given her life involuntarily for him. He had taken her life. He wasn't marked as a Player Killer, but he might well be.

"_YOU MURDERER!_" Heathcliff exclaimed. After several moments of accusation, the rest of the party left him alone. Even Tabor and Emma had had disapproving looks on their faces.

"I hope... I hope that one day you may find it in your hearts to forgive me." Donovan had told them blankly.

"One day... but not today." Tabor had said. Emma had bent down and kissed him gently on the cheek.

"I do... but I think you should be alone for now..." Her expression of disapproval had been on her face when the doors had been shut, however, and that hurt Donovan most of all.

.

**December 18th, 2022. 3:47 AM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 3: Dungeon.**

The lone man walked through the doorway to the boss room.

He had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He had no friends.

His only companion was long gone.

He was looked down upon by everyone he came across.

No guild would take him.

No one wanted to join his party.

But he wasn't suicidal.

He was bent on redemption.

The man hefted a Two-Handed Khalni Greatsword +20.

His Justicar's Overcoat had slung low, it's once proud thick coattails hanging limply.

His chest was protected by Khalni Chainmail, but his only other armor was a Khalni bracer on his left forearm.

He was alone.

And he was soloing a boss.


	4. Redemption?

**December 18th, 2022. 3:47 PM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 3: Dungeon, outside Floor Boss Room**

Donovan hefted the Two-Handed Khalni Greatsword +20, the flat of the blade resting on his shoulder, and stepped into the room. He would have had Pest trigger the boss fight, but Pest had died when Donovan had tried to solo the second floor's Floor Boss. It's name had been Baran the General Taurus. It had been minotaur themed like the rest of the dungeon, itself being found in the floor's Floor Labyrinth, just like the legend.

"I hope it isn't a slime." Donovan said, remembering how the dungeon had a large population of red, blue, and green slimes. The red ones were level 10, the blue 13, and the green 15. Donovan had gone and explored the third floor the moment he had a chance, running past all the other players. He had found the dungeon's towering form to be over the labyrinth, leading to the immediate exploration of the labyrinth. When he found the entrance, he made sure no other player would, placing player markers warning of traps in the long hallways that led to the entrance.

Day and night, night and day he had trained for this floor's boss, not even sleeping, never once leaving the dungeon, not even to go to the labyrinth, using a pet rat named Argo in honor of his one remaining friend as a guard system against monsters Sleeping Player Killing him (often shortened to just SPK or Sleep-PK). He made it to level 20 in two mere days, then the players found his ruse. He took non-lethal measures they wouldn't interfere with his attempt at redemption, however, and they didn't come back for a while. Eight levels later and two days later, he gave Lizbeth an emergency visit, he improved on the base armor he was wearing and pumped the new armor up all the way Lizbeth could, col not being a concern to him. After all this, he repeated the ruse and entered the boss room.

It was December the 18th, precisely 3:47:32 PM when Donovan stepped into the dungeon, shutting the door behind him and placing a warning ward on it. The whole dungeon looked like an abandoned medieval castle or chapel, it's dark gray stone overrun with vines and the sunlight breaking through into the hallways in various points. The King's Chamber was the location of the Boss Room, most of the roof gone. The king's throne lay in a mournful state, the stained glass behind it depicting several warrior's bravely engaged in a doomed battle against a green slime that appeared to be massive.

"You're a slime, aren't you?!" Donovan yelled out. He had gone mildly insane by now, the lack of human contact and his own guilt weighing heavily upon him. He talked to himself, his hair was a mess, the dreadlocks lying in wild patterns, unattended or cared for. If it was within the game's programming to make a person's physical appearance decay as they went without food and sleep, Donovan would have looked emaciated and had big, black bags under his eyes, which would have been in turn bloodshot.

"Come out!" Donovan screamed in his rage, the Boss Fight music suddenly coming on. Just as Kayaba Akihiko had oozed out from between the cracks in the red "warning" hexagons, green slime began to ooze through the cracks, coalescing into a mass of green. The Mother Ooze its name read, four HP bars appearing under it. Donovan charged in, poetically wielding his sword perpendicular to the ground, roaring. The slime suddenly shot forth a spout of ooze, but Donovan put the flat of his blade in front of him, put a palm against the flat of the blade, pushing it, and then triggered the Sprint Skill. The spout of ooze, really more of an appendage for the slime, clashed with the flat of the blade, but the blades Durability was such that it was too much for the slime, and it could only yield as Donovan charged through, then swung in a full arc, gutting the slime. Another gust of the green ooze caught him from the side, launching him sideways.

"You wanna play like that, huh?!" Donovan roared at it, slicing the ooze off from the rest. He again launched himself, a hurricane of Sword Skills and combos just cutting through the ooze. The ooze would have done just fine against an organized group of players, its massive size allowing it to shoot multiple spouts at once, nailing several players. Donovan's mad assault, however, went completely against the ooze's programming, Kayaba Akihiko having expected a group of players to face the monstrosity. To be fair and make the game actually passable, he had programmed the ooze to be able to make multiple spouts at once, as many as necessary really, but that they could only target one player at once.

In his madness, Donovan had hit upon the perfect strategy against this boss completely by accident. He slashed away at each spout of ooze as they sort of switched in with each other once he sliced it off. His first hit, when he gutted the slime, had done about as much damage as just hacking away at the spouts, but he had spotted a solid red gem floating right in the middle of the boss, and he immediately knew what it was: the heart. _You are more apt at identifying things others have but you don't_ Donovan mused, _Or at least no longer have_.

He was hacking away like a mad man at the spouts and the ooze's main body, just cutting through it to the heart, now having to block behind him as he entered the slime itself. _What happens if it just collapses and dissolves you?_ Donovan's survival instinct told him. _It doesn't matter anymore. This is an act of redemption, if we don't do this now, we will never be forgiven. It's do or die, never running_. Donovan's soul answered back.

"DIIIIIEEEEE!" Donovan roared, wielding his sword blade down in one hand, then using his Martial Arts Skill to literally just punch through the slime, the Sprint Skill propelling him through the whole slime. He could grasp and carry the Two-Handed sword with one hand, but he could only block or strike or parry with it using both hands, so he clutched the hilt with both hands when he made it close enough to the heart, then struck. He had fully emptied one HP bar just cutting through it, so massive and so thick was it that even at the minimal damage rate the actions had that even making it to the heart had taken long enough for the whole bar to go down. His strike with the Two-Handed Greatsword had knocked the second one down.

Most SAO bosses had certain effects that triggered when an HP bar went down fully or arrived at a certain point. Mother Ooze reacted to half of her total health being brought down by becoming solid, shooting Donovan out of her like a cannon ball. Donovan struck the wall with the flat of his back, causing a burst of actual pain to ripple through his body. He slumped down, almost unconscious, but then he saw the Mother Ooze's ooze tentacle rushing at him, hoping to deliver the final blow.

"Oh-" Donovan kicked up the Greatsword and put it up, both feet against the flat, "No-" He braced his hands against the wall, "You-" Donovan pushed, ready for his strength and the ooze tentacle's strength to clash, "DONT!" Donovan roared, finally causing his sword to clash with the ooze. Both forces clashed, Donovan's STR parameters at level 28 winning out. He flipped himself up, going from flat on his back to standing up in a millisecond, clutched the sword in both hands, and struck the tentacle. It wasn't an ooze anymore, now rather a solid rock elemental. It's name had changed to Rock Formation Alpha, but only two of its four HP bars remained, one of them already partially dented. He quickly began running up the rock tentacle, slashing away at the ones that approached him.

Multiple tentacles were now programmed to strike each player, so he found himself suddenly slashing away at four or five tentacles at the same time. His greatsword performed in a way that miraculous would have been an understatement. Lizbeth's series of upgrades to it had given it the Sharpness parameters to slash cleanly through most monsters, Rock Formation Alpha's tentacles being no exception. He often found himself jumping from tentacle to tentacle, often the one he had just severed to avoid the others, forcing the boss to tangle itself up in places. It took him a full five minutes, and his HP was taking some serious hits, but he laid sight on the target soon enough.

Donovan dodged one final tentacle and made it to the main body. He began using a four hit combo to cut down into the rock to the monster's core. One of the tentacles picked him up, however, and tossed him, but not before his hand had grabbed a certain object.

.

"And you're sure this is the Boss Room?" Kibaou asked Sora.

"Yes, I am sure." Sora said. Donovan would have never walked into the wrong room like that.

"What's happened to him?" Trona asked, referring to Donovan. Sora and Trona had paired up, both becoming two of the strongest players there were. Everyone was still amazed by the progress a mysterious player named ShaduSneku had made in mere days, making many wonder if it was just a glitch on the leader board system or the newspapers were printing it wrong.

"Last I saw him, he visited Lizbeth. She denied him ever being there, however, but I think she did that because he asked her to."

"Did you get a good look at him?"

"When he left her shop. He was wearing his overcloak, but he was also clad in Khalni grade armor. He must have gotten a lot of col grinding." Sora said, wondering exactly how strong Donovan had become.

"Mother of God..." Kibaou said, looking into the boss room. Both Sora and Trona had the same shocked expression.

.

Donovan was launched into the air, but the heart was still his. He looked up at the ooze, then crushed it in his hand, destroying it. The boss suddenly swelled up to twice its size, a mass of the "damaged" color. It swelled back to its original size shortly, the second HP bar now empty. It was back to the original ooze form, and all of its mass suddenly coalesced into fifty tentacles, all of them rushing at Donovan.

"DIIIIEEEE!" Donovan roared, hard and long, as he rushed in to the fray. He swung this way and that, hacking up and down, slashing in all directions, most of it at empty air, but all of it in one mad quest to kill the enemy. The tentacles clashed against his mass of Sword Skills, the brilliant burst of different colors clashing with the dull ooze green. A visibly traceable tunnel of the red-orange damage color slowly advanced through the slime, gaining speed as the slime's last HP bar went down. He suddenly burst through on the other side, screaming like a wild animal.

Emma had joined the scouting party by now, watching Donovan continue screaming at nothing even as the blue lights faded away. His scream finally died down to a rattle as he collapsed onto his knees, his HP barely visible as the smallest possible sliver of red on the other side. The congratulations window flashed, and his reward was given. He went from level 28 to level 34 just on the amount of XP earned, such a large quantity usually distributed amongst a whole raiding party. _And I did it for nothing_... Donovan thought bitterly. He suddenly broke down into bitter tears, laughing yet at the same time crying at his stupidity. _What did you think you would accomplish with this?! _Donovan thought. He didn't feel forgiven, and he only felt more alone than ever.

A hand was suddenly placed on his shoulder. Donovan perked up ever so slightly, not recognizing the touch, but just the touch from another human raised his spirits more than ever. The hand began to gently massage his shoulder as the owner crouched down and offered a healing potion. The hand offering it was feminine and petite, gloved in a fingerless black glove that reached all the way up the person's forearm tightly and had a dark red trim.

"If it's of any comfort, I forgive you." Emma said, hugging him from behind and pressing herself tightly against him. Donovan basked in the feeling of her lithe body pressed against him, but rejoiced even more so in her forgiveness.

"I killed it for you. And Tabor. And DragonBlade, and Tix, and all the others. But I did it mostly for... for..." Donovan said, breaking into sobs near the end of the sentence.

"For who?" Emma said, offering the potion again.

"For Aiko..." Donovan said, catatonic.

"Stay with me... tonight..." Emma said, a firm resolve in her voice.

"What?"

"For your sake, stay with me tonight... I... I promise you won't regret it..." Emma said, her voice wavering slightly. Trona, Sora, and Kibaou walked in now, awed at a player soloing a boss.

"Open the door, Sora... You should do it." Donovan said. Sora walked over and opened the door, revealing a massive field of geisers and a cold, frozen climate.

"So this is next..." Kibaou said. "Here, you have my thanks. Soloing a boss... Holy shit man, I never even heard of that in games were you _can_ die." Kibaou handed him an invitation to something called the Aincrad Liberation Corp and 5,000 col, adding to Donovan's now significant col reserve.

"No thanks... I'm going solo for a while."

"Dirty Beater." Kibaou said, his voice marked by unfair hatred.

"Actually, he was partying with us before he volunteered to do this." Trona said, going to Donovan's rescue.

"Should you ever change your mind..." Kibaou said, handing him the invitation and dropping it on Donovan's head, albeit not really believing Trona's ruse.

.

**December 18th, 2022. 7:34 PM**

**Floor 2: Urbus City Player Residential Area, Emma's house.**

"Welcome to my house." Emma said. She was a front liner, so the col she earned allowed her to by a small flat in Urbus City. Donovan walked in wordlessly, following the pattern he had had during their trip there. Donovan stayed pretty much wordless for the rest of the evening, despite Emma's attempts at conversation. Dinner and the hour that followed was dull and pretty much silent as well. She eventually just herded him over to the bedroom.

"I- I'm sorry for what the other players have been doing and saying, and I wanted to offer you something in exchange... and... well..." Emma looked down at the ground, biting her lip indecisively. "I love you..." Emma said, gently kissing his mouth. Donovan looked down at her, emotionless.

"I..." He started, but Emma kissed him again. Desperate and wild, craving his own attention. She had practically launched herself at him, making him take a step back, closer to the bed. She opened up his overcloak while trying to take it off, forgetting that you couldn't take clothes off in SAO without the interface or the player himself removing them.

"No..." Donovan said, gently pushing her away.

"Donovan, I... I want you, I _need_ you." Emma said, more desperate than before. She took off the blue cape she had been wearing along with her pants and her leather armor, leaving her in her underwear. She kissed him again, more desperately than before, actually biting his lower lip at several points. Donovan placed his hands on her waist, returning the kiss. Emma was in a bliss, feeling as if she was in Heaven itself.

"But no..." Donovan said, again. This time he planted her firmly on the bed, tossing her cape at her. "I... It's not right. Not here, not now, not for these reasons." Donovan said, just as firmly as his planting her on the bed. He turned around and walked out of the room.

"Am I not pretty?" Emma asked bitterly.

"No, it's just..." Donovan said, turning around and for once seeing her in full view. The moonlight gleamed off of her pale skin, making it shine and glimmer. She wasn't hourglass shaped, her breasts weren't extraordinarily big, but the effect was the same: Donovan was stunned. Her lithe and graceful legs swayed gently, back and forth they went, inviting him. Her trim and toned waist hypnotized him. The perfect curve of her breasts held his gaze longer than he cared to admit. But it was her face, O her gorgeous face that captured his heart. Her magnificent black eyes shone in the moonlight, gleaming like two perfect black pearls. Her expression shattered the dream for him: She looked like she was about to cry at his refusal. He wanted to rush in and comfort her, to sleep with her and fulfill all her desires for this night and all that would follow... but it was wrong. The situation was wrong. The moment was wrong. He felt as if he was going to take advantage of her in her weakness, so he refused.

"No... it's just..." Donovan walked out the door, unable to explain his point of view. Emma burst into heavy tears, unable to cope with his rejection and his unexplained exit. Donovan walked out into the night sky, inhaling deeply, then headed to the teleport gate. There were front lines to fight on, bosses to solo, and players to save. And Donovan didn't have time for stupid things like sex and other players. He wearily headed over to the gate, practically dragging his greatsword with him.


	5. Fire and Ice

**November 2nd, 2022. 4:00 PM.**

**Nagasaki, Micheal Johnson's flat.**

Micheal looked at the copy of the game, wishing he could crush it. But no, he had a feeling from God he wanted to keep it. Funny, how much he relied on what others considered the Mythical Guy in the Sky. Even his own brother poked fun at him for it. Micheal had always been extremely religious, and he clutched the Rosary in his hand harder than ever.

"Donovan? Why oh why Donovan?" He asked God out loud. Donovan was a terrible MMORPG player, Micheal would have been the better choice. He could have led the charge fearlessly, bringing all others to their knees, clearing the game in months. _How long would it take them?_ Micheal thought. His parents were torn over what had happened, never really understanding what was going on. Micheal remembered how his mom was about to just flat out rip Donovan's NerveGear off when the warning had been transmitted all over Japan. Micheal chuckled slightly as he remembered how he had needed to tackle her to make sure she didn't kill Donovan accidentally. The boy that lived next door to him, Kenshin, had been in SAO that evening. His parents had taken off the NerveGear and, sure enough, Kenshin had died.

Micheal remembered when they took the body out, the mother's endless wails trailing it. Microwave radiation, like any radiation, killed you by literally destroying you cell by cell. Micheal had seen the fried head, imagining the mother's horror once the burst had fired and killed her son. He was only fourteen, barely old enough to play SAO, but his life had been claimed just the same. Micheal knew several twelve and even eleven or ten year-olds who played games that were way over them rating wise. Were they stuck in SAO as well? Images of sweet little Kyoko or innocent Suzu's heads frying flooded his mind. He quickly dispelled him.

The phone suddenly rang, causing him to run over and pick it up. Heavy breathing, almost sobbing came from the other side of the line.

"Micheal Johnson's residence, how may I be of assistance?" Micheal said into the receiver after a two second pause because he was caught off-guard by the breathing. Micheal's parents had always taught him to be polite and treat others as he wanted to be treated. He always wanted people to answer nicely and be ready to receive his requests or messages when he answered, so he returned the favor to whoever called him, regardless of their gender, age, aesthetic appearance, or tax bracket.

"Micheal? Is that you?" Momoe's voice asked in tears from the other side of the line.

"Momo? What's wrong?" Micheal said, immediately ready to help his childhood sweetheart.

"It's Takara... she... she... she logged on to SAO at a friend's house!" Momoe suddenly burst into tears.

"How about I come over, then you can tell me everything in person?"

"O- OK... I'll be waiting here." Momoe said, gratefully accepting his offer. Micheal hung up, put on his jacket (It could get cold in Japan), grasped his go-pack, and put the Rosary on at last minute. He quickly dashed off down the street, running as fast as he could while he put the go-pack on. He cat-lept onto a building's side, grabbed onto the waterspout, and used it to scale up to the roof. Anywhere else and people would have started watching in awe, but the people in Micheal's neighborhood were used to his unusual method of transportation. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, vaulting over fans and A/C vents as he navigated the city. He eventually made it to a point where the roofs were too spread out to make it possible, so he jumped down, using parallel walls to slow himself down by using his forearms as brakes, and whipped out his skateboard from the go-pack.

He had everything he could need to get around in Japan in that go-pack along with some canned food and some bottled water, he just liked being prepared. He took of his jacket and go-pack while he skated down the main lane, allowing himself to cool down from the freerunning sprint as he arrived to her house. He had traversed a mile in fifteen minutes compared to the usual twenty it took on a bike or the twenty-five on a bus. He rang the doorbell with two quick jabs, waiting patiently for Momoe's mother to open the door.

"Micheal! What a surprise!" Mrs. Koryo said.

"It's nice to see you as well, ma'am. I'm sorry about Takara."

"I... thank you. She's at the hospital though, if you wanted to see her."

"I came over because Momoe asked me to come." Micheal said, explaining his point passively.

"Ah, I see. Come in, she's in her room." Mrs. Koryo said. They got along well, despite the tone some of their conversations had, often confusing people whom they had just met. Micheal walked into the house, admiring the simple yet traditional style, then went up the stairs to Momoe's room.

"Hey, you all right?" Micheal asked, knocking on the door.

"Come in." Momoe said. Micheal walked in, seeing what he expected: Momoe was an emotional wreck, tear streaks marked by mascara down her cheek, her usually meticulously clean hair in a tangled, matted clump. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this." She said, referring to her appearance.

"It's all right. You look as beautiful as ever." Micheal said, starting the delicate balancing act of comforting a girl effectively.

"Thanks... I've been feeling awful ever since Takara went to her friend's house. They were both pretty intense gamers, so they both logged into SAO. The friend with her own account and equipment, Takara with the brother's."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Micheal said, gently cradling her shoulders with his lithe arm.

"Hey, didn't Donovan log in as well?" Momoe asked.

"He did."

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Here you are, comforting me when you are pretty much in the same dilemma!" Momoe said, feeling guilty and selfish.

"Shh, I came here voluntarily. Donovan is a great player, I'm sure he'll do all right." Micheal said, stroking her hair. "If it's of any comfort, it means that we can start our little self-help group." Momoe laughed a little bit, but the somber mood remained.

"It's just... I was doing some research, 'cause I wanted to see what Takara was up against." Momoe started. _Oh no, she must have looked up creatures and bosses from other games!_ Micheal thought, remembering the hordes of hostile NPCs with their towering commanders that he had faced in such intense games as _Dante's Tale_, _Nocturna_, _Warlock's Maze_, and _Final Fantasy Online_ not to mention several others. "And I found some pictures of what the players are probably pitted against, they're all over the internet."

"It's a bunch of hype. While I hate to admit it, from what Donovan told me, the game is incredibly fair and partial to neither player nor NPC. Kayaba Akihiko didn't just make a Death Game, he made a beatable Death Game." Micheal said. "And size doesn't even matter really in MMORPGs. The boss's size is mostly because so many players fight them at once that if they were any smaller, very few players would actually get to hit them."

"Still... some of them are..."

"Intense, right?" Micheal said, remembering Satan, the last boss in _Dante's Tale_. It had taken the combined raw power of over a hundred top, professional players, including Micheal, to defeat it, and many had died at least once, if not multiple times. The whole fight had taken five hours, but Micheal had stuck through it to the very end. "The pop media is exaggerating it, really. This is a watershed for people who didn't like video games in the first place, and they are using every tool they have at their disposal to make the situation seem worse. Sword Art Online can, _and will_, be beaten, don't worry about that." Micheal said, looking deeply into her eyes.

"Thanks..."

"That's what friends are for, Momo." Micheal said, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Would you hold me and sing me a lullaby, like you used to?" Momoe asked, referring to the time Micheal had sung her to sleep when they had gone to a week-long school-sponsored camp and she couldn't sleep. Micheal cradled her in his arms, both laying down on the bed. Micheal started humming a gentle tune, softly rocking her in his arms. Momoe found new comfort and strength, feeling Micheal's toned muscles shift under his shirt as he gently swayed her from left to right.

"_Sing me to sleep..._

_Sing me to sleep,_

_I'm tired and I,_

_I want to go to bed..."_

Micheal started to sing in his deep bass voice, calming Momoe down and causing her to become sleepy.

"_Sing me to sleep,_

_Sing me to sleep,_

_And then leave me alone._

_Don't try to wake me in the morning,_

_'Cause I will be gone._

_Don't feel bad for me now,_

_I want you to know:_

_Deep in the cell of my heart,_

_I will feel so glad to go._

_There is another world,_

_There is a better world,_

_Well, there must be..._

_Well, there must be..._

_Well, there must be..._

_Well, there must be..."_

Micheal looked at Momoe, now sleeping peacefully next to him. _Had Kayaba Akihiko considered all of this when he made his game? Did he think of all of this when he started the madness?_

**December 3rd, 2022. 1:24 AM**

**Nagasaki, Outside Momoe's house.**

"Let me through! Let me through!" Micheal yelled frantically, but the police wouldn't let him. He finally just burst through after knocking a policeman flat on his back. He quickly sprinted in, two cops in hot pursuit. Micheal had heard that Takara's friend had suddenly been fried, then Takara herself, now he suspected Momoe had... had...

"Sir, please just come back outside, we are dealing with the situation!" A cop yelled after his failed attempt to pin Micheal down. Micheal still made it up the stairs, however, and into Momoe's room.

"Momoe..." Micheal said, seeing the silhouette framed against the moonlight. Momoe had hunge herself with her school uniform's tie tied to the ceiling fan. "Why?" Micheal asked no one in particular. "WHY?!" Micheal asked, louder, this time asking God Himself. One of the cops placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry..." The cop said, referring to Micheal's loss. "She left that note, we think it was meant for you." Micheal went over and picked up the note, reading it with a grim frown on his face:

_Dear Micheal,_

_I remembered what you have always said,_

_about a god above in a heaven._

_I am off to see him, he might allow me in,_

_considering my loss and the fact I'm very well-behaved._

_I hope one day you can join me..._

_Momoe_

Micheal wept bitterly, his attempt at outreach having gone sour beyond his worst nightmares. _Momoe dead, _he thought _And Donovan pending..._ a cruel voice said at the back of his head. _No!_ He answered back, clearly knowing what God wanted him, no, had _commanded_ him to do. He walked through the sleet and the rain back to his flat. _No more Takaras, no more Momoes_ he thought, furious. _You will die, bitter and alone, locked away in some horrid place of walls of codes_ the same cruel voice said. _Back off, Satan!_ He roared back at it, _"And if our God is for us, then who could ever stop us? And if our God is with us, then what could stand against?"!_ Micheal thought as he tore the door open, almost ripping it off its hinges. He turned on his computer, inserting the SAO disk into it. He put the NerveGear on, then took it off and called his parents and left a voice mail as an afterthought. He called 119, notified them that he was about to enter SAO and to prepare a medical room for him, despite the operator's vociferous protests. Micheal coldly hung up after stating he was doing it for family, then put the NerveGear on.

"LINK START!" Donovan roared, angry at Kayaba Akihiko for what he had done. He remembered all of his hours of gameplay under Donovan's account, recalling Sword Skills, how to use them, how to level up, etc.

"Login ID: Michearu Johnosono, Password: *********" The screen queried, Micheal's tendency to be lazy and program a 'remember password' function saving him some time. Micheal logged in and entered the world of SAO.

"Character Creation." The screen announced. Micheal suddenly fell, through skies and under stars he did not recognize. The ground rushed up to meet him, but he refused to scream. He hit, and everything went black.

"What on Earth made you do this... Michearu?" A voice asked, pronouncing Micheal's username.

"My brother... he's trapped... I had a copy... and I... I..." Micheal said, realizing the stupidity of what he had just done. Micheal saw that he was in some sort of bleach-white cubicle with no doors and no access to the outside in general in fact.

"Welcome to my world, then." Kayaba Akihiko said. Micheal immediately looked up, drawing his sword and charging wildly. The hooded and robed figure merely raised a hand, freezing him in place. "Such anger, you might ruin your experience here."

"Let them go! Let! Them! Go!" Micheal said, referring to all of the other players, swinging his sword madly to whatever extent he could while paralyzed.

"That would be unfair." Kayaba Akihiko said. "And please, call me Kayaba-san. What should we do with you? You've entered the game too late, so you missed the glorious grand opening, but I presume you know the rules from the media, don't you?"

"I know perfectly well what your twisted mind has created!" Micheal said, wielding his sword again, but it merely pinged off Kayaba, triggering an "immortal object" warning. The figure under the cloak chuckled. Micheal repeated his assault many more times, all of them with the same results.

"It would be unfair to put you in the game at your point. To even your playing ground, I'll give you this much of an advantage: pick your skills from this list here, it has every list in the game, then your level will be set to the player average, your skills filling in equally and evenly to make this possible. Once that is done, you will be given some equipment and deposited in the Starting City Square. How does that sound?"

"Anything to help my brother." Micheal said emotionlessly, looking up at the only monster he'd ever come across in his life. They both stared into each other's eyes, coolly trying to measure the other one. Two great cold and calculating intellects were in play right now. Michael knew that this was the enemy, and he wanted to know him. Kayaba had realized that this player might well become a formidable opponent, so he should study him while possible.

"Very well. Here is the list, you have a maximum of twelve skill slots, so choose wisely." Kayaba Akihiko said. Micheal looked through the whole list. _They weren't joking when they said there was an infinite amount of skills in Sword Art Online_ Micheal thought. While there was a definite, finite quantity, there were so many that it took him a minute to scroll through them all, even at a rapid pace to just get a sense of what they were. Kayaba had still divided them into "all," "combat," "non-combat," and "miscellaneous" much to Micheal's relief. He eyed through all of them, then picked four combat skills of his liking, six supportive non-combat ones, and two miscellaneous ones for fun.

"And what class have we built here?" Kayaba asked in his usual calm manner. He looked through the list: 1) One-Handed Rapier, 2) Light Shield Equipment, 3) Bushido, 4) Delay, 5) Acrobatics, 6) Sprint, 7) Detection, 8) Purchase Negotiation, 9) Thrust Weapon Forging, 10) Metal Equipment Repairing, 11) Fishing, 12) Cooking. "'Bushido', eh? I wasn't planning on anyone getting that skill until at least floor 70, but I did say 'pick your skills from this list here,' so I never said anything to prevent you from having it."

"There's always a loophole in games." Micheal said.

"Yes, there usually is. You would have normally had to max Battle Regeneration and done a quest, but oh well." Kayaba said. His impeccably calm manner remained through the whole conversation, even humbly accepting his verbal defeat at Micheal's hands when the player found the loophole to get a better skill than what was expected. Micheal began to wonder at that point if Kayaba wasn't some sort of psychopath or mass murderer, maybe just fatally misguided. "As I promised, you will find equipment befitting of your player level in your inventory once you appear in the square. Do be aware your avatar's appearance will be based on your face as perceived by the NerveGear's high-density sensor and from whatever readings you allowed it to take during calibration. Character creation is, in fact, pointless at this point, just deciding what color your starter clothes will be along with your player name." Kayaba said. And with that, he was gone.

"Character Creation." The NerveGear announced again, drawing Micheal's attention to the matter at hand. Micheal picked the randomized appearance, knowing what Kayaba had said to probably be true. The randomized appearance was still, as usual, an unrealistically handsome young man with an idealized body. The starter had light blue hair in a contemporary style smartly framing his handsome face. The player name prompt appeared at that moment as well, making Micheal what he should call himself. He suddenly remembered his conversation with Kayaba, how Kayaba had been so calm and Micheal so ardent about what he said.

_Like fire and ice_... Micheal thought, but he thought it in Japanese for some reason. He still liked how it had sounded, however, so that was what he put: _Kōri to Honō_, Fire and Ice. He spawned in the square, a notification suddenly popped up in his interface: 'Gift from Kayaba Akihiko' it said. He opened it, finding, as promised, equipment, but also just a plain old mirror. He stored all of the items in his inventory, then realized someone had been looking at him this whole time.

"Are you... are you from the outside world?" A short and squat teen asked. He had dark mustard hair in a duck tail hair style. A slender young boy of about the same age was with him with an overall dark pink theme versus his companion's mustard color.

"I just started." Micheal said, examining his clothing. He had, as he requested, started with a white shirt and light gray pants under the starter equipment. He placed both hands on his hips confidently, smiling slyly.

"Are you mad?!" the second one of the teens asked. "You're stuck in here now!"

"Well, you see..." Micheal started. He told them of Donovan and Emma and Tabor. He told them of Takara and Momoe's deaths. And then he told of how he was determined to change that.

"That's... that's the most noble thing I've heard anyone do..." The first boy said.

"There should be more people like you out there." The second said. "Do you want to party up with us? We could help you find your brother."

"Nah, I've always liked to go solo." Micheal said confidently.

"A word of advice, my friend: Solo players are infamous in this game." The player proceeded to explain about Beaters and the reputation they carried, along with the automatic placement of any solo player into the Beater category.

"I see... I'll add 'change Beater's reputation' to my to do list. Until then, I'm better at working alone, less people to take care of." Micheal said, walking away.

"Wait! Could you tell us about the real world?" The mustard boy asked.

"Well, nothing's changed much. About 2,591 players have died at this point, but none because of external causes, all of them died in the game. The government is helping pay for the medical care of anyone whose family cannot afford the treatment... and there's supposed to be an elite group of hackers working away at this, but Kayaba is apparently too smart for them." Michael said. He then proceeded to detail less game-related events, such as political occurrences and such. The two boys thanked him for his time, but it wasn't long before everyone knew that he had just logged in. He was swarmed that day, not allowed a moment's breath until well into the night.

Micheal rented a room at the inn, seeing as night was falling, and then took scope of the situation. He took out all of his equipment and laid it on the bed, looking at it. He had a Steel Rapier and a oval-shaped 30 cm long Steel Buckler. He also had a Steel Chestplate and a white Inquisitor's Coat. He had dark brown-gray pantaloons and two gloves with multiple straps that looked like they were meant to adjust to the size of the forearm of whoever was wearing it. He finally had some dark blue boots and a short, dark mahogany cape. The final item, and the one that made him want to laugh, was a dark brown-gray Inquisitor's Fedora with a bright red feather stuck in it.

"I'd say I'm well equipped." Micheal said to himself. He put it all on, removing his starter clothes but keeping them in his inventory just in case. He sheathed the rapier and placed the fedora on his head poetically, suddenly whipping out the rapier to practice. "_Én garde!_" he yelled, striking with the rapier multiple times, getting used to the feel of the Sword Skill. He then checked his overall level: level 8. _We probably want to get as strong as possible as fast as we can_. Micheal thought, thinking of how he was even going to find Donovan. _I know Tabor's player name was NickFrost, so that's a start._ Micheal thought. He slept fitfully that night, incapable of really doing so with Donovan in danger.

The next morning, he walked out the front gate, sheathing and unsheathing his rapier randomly, often scaring the occasional passerby. _The only unofficial quest in the game..._ Micheal thought. _I wonder exactly how much Player Skill counts in this game..._ was his next thought. _Oh well, we'll figure that out as we go..._ At this point, the sky was the limit. Or at least, the color patterns on the ceiling that passed off as a sky.


	6. The Mahogany Justicar

**April 24th, 2022. 5:47 AM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 23: Dungeon, Outside Floor Boss Room**

A game had once been called the Game of Swords.

A boy had once begun to play the game.

The Death Game, it rang now, a dire change in words.

A man now approached the room, just the same.

Donovan eyed the room in his usual calm and cool manner. Dexter, his monkey/lion/eagle four-winged hybrid perched on his shoulder calmly, clad in his miniature set of armor. Dexter could heal Donovan along with fighting and carrying his equipment to some extent. Dexter shook his golden mane, shrieking like an eagle. Donovan and Dexter had broken off the main player group now, becoming a legend amongst the players, a man amongst mice. There were very few players whose names were uttered with awe and with fear sometimes. Donovan was lucky, or unlucky, enough to be able to count himself among their number.

There was Kirito-sama, known as The Beater, soloing the front lines along with Donovan, allowing a small amount of kinship to exist between them. There was PoH, the Black Phantasm or Death's Handyman, infamous for his intense PKing activity. There was Heathcliff-san, Living Legend, bravely leading the charge on the upper floors with the Knights of the Blood Oath. There was Asuna-san, Lightning Bolt Asuna, fearlessly following Heathcliff as well as doing his bidding as his second in command. There were Sora and Trona, collectively known as the Sky Warriors for their favored color (light blue), not quite soloers but not belonging to any guild either. Finally, there was Shadusneku, The Mahogany Justicar, going where no soloer dared go, slaying the bosses that terrified the KoB or even the ALC single-handedly, holding either the most intense respect and admiration, or the sharing the brunt of the hate against Beta Testers known as Beaters along with Kirito. Shadusneku was also identifiable by his custom metal headband that read in Japanese: "Shade Snake."

Donovan had made a guild out of vanity, The Mahogany Justicar, just so he could have his own logo and keep the cloak he had a penchant for, the Justicar's Overcloak, as a guild uniform. Aincrad Liberation Corp was still known as the top clearer guild at this point, however, followed immediately by the Knights of the Blood Oath, then Divine Dragon Alliance, and, finally, Fuurinkazan. The Mahogany Justicar didn't qualify because it was composed of only one member. The average member strength for The Mahogany Justicar was still the highest amongst the guilds, its one member continually boosted by fight after fight with a boss, absorbing into one player the XP meant for entire parties of players.

He coolly entered the Boss Room. Four HP bars appeared, along with the name The Horde. Donovan looked in, expecting to find one massive boss, the bosses in recent floors becoming bigger and bigger, more and more intimidating. What he saw, however, chilled him to the core: A massive crowd of zombie-like creatures in the midst of a Stonehenge-like set of ruins that spanned a field as far as the eye could see. Most floors in Aincrad had a theme. Floor 1, for example, had been that of an idyllic little town long ago oppressed by the Kobolds locked in the dungeon with their leader. Floor 24, however, had freaked many players out. It was all graveyard themed, the main village the only place where you could find a human being. Everywhere else, horde after horde of the undead. The other villages were populated by Ghouls, zombies who had regained their humanity through some unknown method, albeit not their bodies, still shambling corpses.

The boss for this room was exactly what it sounded like: a horde of the undead. Their moans and groans growing to a fever pitch as they detected Donovan, who merely grasped his Two-Handed Sirilium Greatsword +47 firmer than ever. He had gotten to the point where even Lizbeth, the greatest non-NPC blacksmith in the world, could not improve his weapons any more. On floor eighteen, however, there was a woman in a lake, who for the exchange of massive quantities of col would improve your equipment, completely guaranteed they would not shatter in the improvement process or use up any more hammers than one per upgrade, and upgrading it as much as the player could pay for. There was just one catch: Massive amounts of col were required. Soloing bosses, however, was an occupation that paid for itself ten times over.

"Zombies... groovy." Donovan said, quoting some age-old movie. He could see no end to the room, but what was visible was packed with its undead horde. Row upon row of Crawlers stood before him, Zombie Juggernauts, Corpse Spitters, and other assorted ghoulish inventions straight out of Hell interrupted the flow, their massive heights towering over the rest to assorted extents. A mighty, increasingly deafening roar erupted from the zombie horde, almost as if screaming out "_FOOD!_" to any zombie who had not noticed him. Donovan knew how to deal with this type of enemy in these quantities, however, so the whole setting did not unnerve him in the very least.

He set his foot firmly into the ground, leveling his sword at an angle that bisected the 90 degree angle formed by one of his legs and the ground. His foot closest to the door suddenly bent upwards, the toe of his boot still touching the ground, almost like a sprinter's starting pose. The earth behind him suddenly shattered as the full power of his 389/1000 Sprinting Skill kicked in, moments later propelling him into the horde. He uttered a mighty roar, hacking this way and that, Crawlers lying in assorted states of mutilation in his wake. He smartly maneuvered through the gaps in the horde, creating some when there was now, slashing hither and tither with his sword. He avoided the Juggernauts and Corpse Spitters, their assorted attacks falling short of him. His Sword Skills' flashes made him appear as a bolt of multicolored lightning, a myriad of colors ranging from light green and bright red to a hue of blue and a burst of mustard that still shone, as he comboed his way through the whole horde, cutting large swaths into it.

A Corpse Spitter loomed in the horizon, however, so Donovan picked up his speed. He jumped up, now running on a series of stone pillars towards the undead giant. It perked up, preparing to swing the massive blood-soaked cleaver attached to its arm, but Donovan was ready for it. It swung, but at empty air. One of the uses of the Parry Skill was that it outlined an attacker's next attacking limb in a faint red, allowing perceptive players to begin blocking maneuvers sooner. The Acrobatics Skill, however, could be used with this as well.

Donovan had front-flipped over the blade, and performed a six-hit combo on the Spitter's face, the game's unrealistic combo system keeping him suspended in the air longer as he moved forward into the Spitter. It's head flew off, allowing Donovan to land on its shoulders, then jumped off after delivering the fatal blow. He threw six shuriken as he landed, killing six Crawlers and allowing him to begin his burst of speed again. Left and right, up and down, hither and tither, back and forth, to and fro Donovan went, going from one end of the horde to the other, slaying all the way. He kept this pace up for an unrealistic period of time, his AGI and STA of 156 and 191 respectively kept him going for a lot longer than any human being ever could.

"Any level-based MMORPG game is unfair that way, high enough numbers make you invincible." Donovan remembered a fellow clearer say once, explaining how they could pull off all the impossible stuff they did. It might have been Kirito, but he wasn't sure. He had been going for half an hour when the effects of such a mighty spurt of speed and combat began to weigh on him. Sometimes he wondered if playing the game and doing intense stuff raised their heartbeat in real life, adding another possible excuse Donovan could use with his father to crank out that last half-hour after his time was up. _It means I might well be in some sort of shape when I get back_ Donovan thought. He noticed Dexter was still flying, so that meant the number of zombies had been reduced by him as well. Donovan had also noticed that the HP bars went down with the number of zombies.

"It's the Mahogany Justicar!" He suddenly heard a voice exclaim. A group from assorted guilds, notably ALC and a revived AST, stood in the doorway. The zombies noticed the new arrivals as well, inspiring awe and fear into the new arrivals.

"Dexter, close the door!" Donovan said, taking the zombie horde's momentary distraction as an opportunity to significantly reduce their numbers without them noticing. Dexter closed the door, sealing away the other guilds. Donovan's policy depended on him being the sole receiver of all the XP. The guilds began to open the door again, however. "And keep it closed!" Donovan ordered. He began to cut through the zombie horde again, noting whether or not the door was still closed. He could hear the occasional protest, but the XP wasn't the only reason why he kept the door shut. He had noticed that several bosses had a similar problem as Mother Ooze had had: they were designed to fight groups, not individuals, especially not lightning quick individuals.

"For your own sake, keep the door shut!" Donovan yelled at them once when he got close enough. Protest kept incrementing. Dexter was enough to keep the door shut, a single player or NPC enough to open the doors or keep them shut. Donovan _had_ noticed that the amount of undead focusing their attention on him had increased, so maybe letting the guilds in wouldn't be such a bad idea. He also noted that the zombies were getting sparser and sparser, but then he noticed that it was mostly Zombie Behemoths by now, and he didn't want the players to be facing twenty of those at a time. Donovan, however, had hit upon the perfect strategy: He started dancing around on one of them, and his own comrades did Donovan's work, unaware of the damage they were causing their friend.

Donovan started going up one, watching as his friends struck the one he was on, lowering its HP hit by hit. Two players, however, suddenly burst out through the door, one of them in a flash of light blue hair, the other in a flash of light blue clothing. _Sora and Trona_ Donovan thought.

"You selfish pig!" Sora yelled, "hogging all the XP for yourself!" Sora had begun hacking away at a behemoth with his one handed sword, his other hand wielding a shield. His light blue jacket had been updated to one with white dragons etched on it.

"Can you imagine if I had let all of those players in here on their own?" Donovan answered. "They would have gotten overwhelmed using the usual strategy!"

"So you selflessly sacrificed yourself despite the enormous rewards in the balance?" Trona said, taking on several Crawlers. She had some sort of gauntlet on now, one which paralyzed the zombies whenever she touched them, allowing her to quickly pierce them with a flurry of hits from her rapier, which she used for its ability to hit fast and hit hard.

"It's called a job hazard!" Donovan yelled back, performing a four-hit combo on a Behemoth.

"You're telling me that being a full eight levels above everyone else is a job hazard?" Sora exclaimed indignantly. Heathcliff, the second highest-level player, was level 32, Donovan was 40.

"Job hazard!" Donovan said, barely dodging the ginormous mass of rotten flesh's many appendages as he cut every other one off. Dexter didn't close the door in time again and three more players burst through. One of them reminded him of a musketeer, but clad in white and gray instead of the usual blue they were depicted in and with a small, oblong buckler on his left arm to block while he used his mythical-looking rapier, the other had massive metal armor on over his equally massive and tall frame, wielding a shield almost as tall as the player was along with a spear, and a dark green-clad swordswoman with flowing black hair bursting out from inside a warrior-monk type robe's hood, wielding her tribal-looking Two-Handed Battleaxe. As they got closer, Donovan was able to read their names: Kōri to Honō, NickFrost, and Naina.

"Valkyries, CHARGE!" The white musketeer said, brandishing the blue-ish white rapier as a battle banner. Donovan immediately recognized two of them as Tabor and Emma, but the leader remained unknown, too short to be DragonBlade. A couple more players burst through, their number increasing as they went. The force of all six players combined proved too much for the Behemoths, and even their grand total of twenty proved too little against the might of all the clearer players in the game. The Horde's last HP bar emptied, indicating that there were no zombies left.

"Nice job!" The musketeer congratulated his small troupe.

"Dexter, open the door!" Donovan said, the remaining, really only about ten or so, players to come in to witness the "congratulations" sign. Donovan looked at the rewards screen, bitterly noting that his XP reward had been reduced to about a tenth. He still went up to level 42, however, and had a ton of drops. He took the select few that piqued his attention, and then left the rest for the 48 that usually followed in his wake, his usual procedure.

"Donovan!" The musketeer called to him, and Donovan finally recognized the voice and the flowing locks of wavy brown hair framing the handsome face.

"Michael!" Donovan exclaimed, running into Michael's arms. "Oh, Michael, I was so worried."

"Worried for me? Are you kidding me? Mom and dad were freaking the flip out!" Michael exclaimed.

"Wait, why are you in SAO?! You weren't trapped at the beginning!" Donovan exclaimed, wondering why his brother was here. "You just doomed yourself along with all of us."

"For God so loved the world that He sent his only begotten Son, that whoever would believe in Him would have eternal life." Michael said. "For Michael so loved his idiot brother that he sent himself, so that Michael might clear the game and free those set inside." Michael then said, adding his own touch to the verse.

"You and your Babble." Donovan said, teasing Michael about his religion with a southern United States accent, at the same time placing his left hand on Michael's right shoulder.

"You and your death wish." Michael said, repeating the gesture by placing his left hand on Donovan's right shoulder. They looked into each other's eyes deeply, a thousand words said, none of them audible, but all of them significant. They then embraced, crying into the other one's shoulders.

"Bro, you had me so worried..." Michael said, embracing Donovan tightly, his red-feathered gray-brown fedora falling off his head.

"Thanks for coming... I... I was lonely and desperate..." Donovan said. "I didn't know how much longer I could last like this." They embraced the other tightly for a few more seconds and then broke apart.

"DONOVAN!" Emma screamed excitedly, charging into his arms, kissing him full on.

"Emma!" Donovan said, unsure of what else to say once she had broken the embrace.

"You two?" Michael said, pointing a finger at each one.

"What's going on... I don't even..." Donovan said, shrugging his shoulder.

"It's just... I... sorry." Emma said, turning tomato red.

"In other news, there are a full forty-three extremely angry players who want Donovan's head on a pike." Tabor said, pointing at the angry mob. Donovan was beginning to suspect that the cry of amazement when he'd first noticed the player mob was not one of admiration, rather hate.

"So you're the one that's been hogging all the XP!" One player exclaimed.

"Get him!" Another cried.

"Go! We'll hold them off!" Michael said, his group of friends standing in the way.

"Outta the way, traitors!" One of the AST players yelled, bursting past the little group, chasing after his former leader. Donovan's Sprint Skill was, however, beyond all of them, and he was out of the room in mere moments, mostly because he had to open the door. That was the fifth boss he had soloed, and the fourth floor he had opened the door of. After the town opening celebration, Donovan realized something: as much as he hated it, "The Mahogany Justicar" and "Shadusneku" had become infamous. If he could have reset his name, he would have. The best he could do at the moment, however, was change his appearance as much as possible and change his guild. _But no...They would still recognize Shadusneku..._ Donovan thought. _Your little redemption game is over, Donovan, it's time to relax... You have been forgiven. _Donovan spent a few moments of bliss in the thought, relieved his guilt was off his shoulders. Donovan took out his teleport crystal and thought deeply for a few moments, however, of the situation he was now in. He then remembered a place were he could go.

"Teleport: Coral Village!" Donovan told it, and he appeared there in a flash of blue lights. Several players watched the new arrival, shocked at such an infamous player coming into a public area. "Beat it." Donovan told them, walking away. Off came the Justicar's Overcloak, along with the Moonfoil Chestplate and the black pao chainmail, replaced by a dull, black long-sleeve shirt. Off came the Justicar's Boots, replaced by Sandals. He unequipped the greatsword, then stuck it in his inventory. He took the headband off last, and untied his dreadlocks' ponytail, letting them fly loosely. The final touch was added by making his dreadlocks pitch black, and The Mahogany Justicar was no more.


	7. Booth the Pious

**April 27th, 2023. 2:58 PM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 24: Jubun City.**

Booth raised his head, looking around the church. Kayaba Akihiko had varied the religious theme of the churches, from Christian to Buddist, Islamic to New Age, for the sake of variety. Booth always went to the most recent Christian church in the most recent floor, spending his usual Sunday morning there. This was the first Christian/Catholic church there had been in ten floors, so Booth was glad for the change in scenery. Not that he disliked going to the same church repeatedly, but rather because each one was more grandiose than the last. This one was a towering cathedral, reminding Booth of the Notre Dame cathedral.

Kayaba Akihiko had taken a great deal of time working through all the little details. He had also named the village quite properly. Jubun meant 'plenty' in Japanese. The farmland was lush and surrounded the city as far as the eye could see. The stores were opulent and their wares varied greatly. Of course, at this point, hardly anyone shopped at NPC stores. Monsters dropped better armor and equipment than most NPCs sold, and if they dropped anything less, you could sell it off. Many players had set up shop, and frontliners along with the odd mid-range player sold to them rather than NPC villagers. It set the items into the player flow, and it just allowed more players to get their hands on better equipment. Floor 24, often referred to by players as 'Futatsu Seishitsu' (Two Natures), as beyond Jubun's lush plains and bountiful forests lay the Deadlands. This vast expanse of rocky and desert terrain contained some of the fiercest monsters along with a terrifying new effect: dehydration.

The first area to be attributed an effect, the Deadlands had claimed a small number of players already. If you didn't bring along water items, you would dehydrate, begin to lose HP along with slowing down, and be significantly easier prey to monsters that roamed the desert. The terrifying Surizārinkukurikku as they were called, or Surikku(s) for short, were centipede-type monsters with long, armored torsos and lethal scythes for feet, and they literally had a hundred of those. You could still hear them from far off, however, because of the noises they made and were named after: A click and a slither followed by a repeated cycle. Click, slither, click, slither, they went, alerting anyone nearby of their presence from a few hundred feet away.

There were also Sand Wurms tunneling under ground. They were silent and invisible to the untrained eye, but their individual stats were low. The problem was that they could attack in groups that ranged from at least five to about twenty. They were sand beige in coloring and had a composite jaw of four jaw bones with razor sharp teeth all around. Kayaba Akihiko must have been inspired by the movie Dune when he made them along with actual earth worms. There was also Desert Shriekers, caterwauling their way through the desert. They shrieked differently when they found a player as well, alerting all the Surikkus and Sand Wurms twenty miles around of a player and causing them to rush in, so you had to kill them quick. They resembled robed women with turbans, all of it beige grey except for their vicious lime green eyes.

Booth still liked Futatsu Sheishitsu for the Jubun area, and he was about to discover a remarkable skill in it. Booth closed the King James Bible, having spent his morning reading the book of Revelations. He set the book down and rubbed his sore eyes. He did not understand the vast majority of what was written in there. Most people didn't anyways. When he opened his eyes, he noticed one of the NPC monks was looking at him. A quest marker suddenly popped up. _Perseverance of the Saints..._ Booth read the title, curious.

"We have noticed your devotion to the Higher Power, brother. May we ask you a request on his behalf?" The monk asked. Booth looked at the quest request and then at the monk. Quests were pretty common in SAO, but truly rewarding ones were rare even then. Most were just for the theme of the Floor. He tried to think what might have triggered the quest. Depending on the trigger conditions, the quest could be hard yet rewarding, or easy and a waste of time, or a combination of both. Booth thought back and concluded one of three things must have triggered it: 1) it was the first Sunday he had been in this cathedral, 2) His level was high enough, or 3) He had just read through the entire King James Bible.

The third and final option seemed the most likely to indicate a profitable quest. The second would mean it was balanced to his level, so so would the rewards. The first option was the least appealing. Just being in the cathedral for the first time, even if it was a specific day of the week, was all too common a trigger and would indicate a low-profit quest. Booth thought about what he had to do that day, and found nothing. Eri was back on floor twenty-two tending her blacksmith and sewing shop, and she hadn't needed him to do a materials run in a while, so he assumed it was okay. Besides that, the only other person on his friend list was Argo the Rat, mostly because Booth felt obliged to have a fast method to contact her in case he found something interesting. This quest was quite interesting in its theme and because Booth hadn't heard of it, but then again, it was only three days ago the Mahogany Justicar had opened the doors.

The name froze his mind for a little bit. The Mahogany Justicar, easily set aside from the seven most notorious solo players, was a bit of an oddball case. He had soloed five boss rooms, people had found him passed out on the floor in two of them, his health a mere sliver, and in another the player's had witnessed the final blows. He was in a category on his own because no one had ever heard of such a thing: soloing a boss. Sure, there was the Aincrad Liberation Force who had taken on a boss with just five guys back on Floor 15, but it had been a harrowing fight at best. Shadusuneku, or Donovan as he was known to his friends, had soloed several bosses on his own. He had attempted around fifteen of them, but only succeeded in those five. The funny thing was that they were bosses most likely to be the most lethal to a large group of players, their attack patterns useless against a single player working effectively. Now he had disappeared from the frontlines and practically the game in general, he was still alive, of that much people were sure.

He was still one of the more controversial players, The Black Swordsman being the only other player who could parallel him in the sheer amount of unjustified hatred they both bore. Booth had never been angry at either players, rather appreciating the role each of them played in the clearing of the game. The Black Swordsman, or Kirito as he was known sometimes, had ended one of the greatest rifts that was developing among players. Beta testers were all deemed to be exactly like Shadusuneku or Kirito, soloers who 'hogged' the XP and items in their own ways and abandoned the lower-level players to the wolves. Kirito defined those players as Beaters, saving people like Booth a lot of trouble. Booth was among the few people who appreciated what Kirito had done, regardless of what people thought.

Shadusuneku was interesting at best. Booth could see a benefit in what he was doing: He had attempted fifteen bosses, most of them nearly killing him, but had killed those who were the most lethal to groups, the bosses lethal to single or uncoordinated players being able to defeat them. Booth often wondered what would have happened if a group of players had attempted the Mother Ooze, Himeji, or The Horde to name three. People still only saw the XP Shadusuneku had gained as XP that could have been distributed among people, and that he had stolen. They didn't even notice that he left all of the equipment that wasn't useful to him to the players. They even picked it up while all the while they cursed his name.

"We have noticed your devotion to the Higher Power, brother. May we ask you a request on his behalf?" The monk repeated, scaring Booth. He fell back on his seat, tipping the pew over and causing both the pew and the player to fall over. Booth moaned slightly on the floor as the 'Immortal Object' notification appeared on the pew. The quest notification still floated in front of him. He decided he might as well go through the quest. If it wasn't worthwhile, he could tell Argo and players would avoid it. If it _was_ worthwhile, then players would know to do it. It was a win-win situation when viewed from the right angle. Booth accepted. The monk pulled the cowl over his head and walked away. Booth followed wordlessly.

"This way, brother." The monk said. "We have been troubled by a being recently. He has disrupted our worship of the Higher Power, and we wish that a traveler would condemn him for us." Boot followed, several options appeared prompting him if he wanted to ask the monk a question.

"Who is this Higher Power?" Booth selected, curious about what a Catholic-looking monk would refer to as a Higher Power.

"Many know him as God. Others as Allah and Vishnu. Some simply know him as The All." The monk said. "All roads lead to him, all roads have been established by him. Any path that appeals to an individual will lead him to the all, and to paradise, where they will enjoy the All's presence for eternity in their own way." Booth glared at the monk, knowing that it only had a set amount of responses and that it was an NPC, causing it to act in a preprogrammed way that Booth could not change. Booth had always hated universalism.

"Who is this defiler?" Booth selected.

"He refers to himself as the Arbiter. He attempts to establish his own way to the All, but his path is corrupt and unworthy." The monk said. "He can only corrupt what is made by the All, nothing he ever makes is original." the monk said. Booth reflected on the statement, thinking about the irony in that Kayaba Akihiko had copied off of God's creation to make the environment of this world. Now it appeared that he was copying off God's religion as well. At least aesthetically. Booth chided himself on his zeal, realizing that the situation was causing his innards to churn and boil, and reminded himself it was just a game. Booth decided not to ask anymore questions as he and the monk made it across the library, then he pulled on a book and a secret door opened. Booth looked down into the dark, dank tunnel and pulled out a torch from his inventory, wielding his longsword in the other hand.

"The pious do not need a light." The monk stated, prompting Booth to put the torch out. The walls of the tunnel began to glow with mineral deposits as soon as the door closed behind them and darkness was restored. They walked for what appeared a while, then Booth stopped and stared, amazed. They were in an underground valley, with its own cloud system and forest and all. At the end of the long valley stood a large stone monolith. The trees themselves appeared to be ablaze with colors ranging from a deep, dark red to a brilliant light blue from the minerals that they absorbed from the ground and deposited in their leaves without realizing it.

"Follow me. We must be quiet, as the Arbiter would have our heads on a pike and our souls burned if he saw us in the Sacred Vale. Booth popped up his map in curiosity, noting that they weren't on any floor in particular. It just said 'Sacred Vale' were the Floor name and Area name would be. Booth concluded that this meant the quest could be started from multiple points. Booth and the monk crouched, triggering the Hiding Skill. Booth's was high enough (578) to render him semi-invisible, a faint shade of himself were he would be. The monk would have been flat out invisible save for the quest marker hovering over his head, indicating what Booth must follow. _Faith is blind..._ Booth chuckled to himself. He realized that his sword had been in his hand all along, so he sheathed it on his back.

"We are close by now." The monk announced when they arrived at the obelisk. He noticed there were mystical runes covering it, giving off a pale orange glow. "They would glow light blue normally, but the Usurper has tinged it with his corruption." Booth thought they looked better pale orange than with most shades and hues of blue. "Unsheathe your weapon, adventurer, we are-" The monk suddenly gave a cry of surprise, flying up into the air.

"Who dares enter the shrine of the Arbiter?" A voice asked, calm and pensive, a mere tinge of anger in it. Booth was prompted to deactivate his Hiding skill and announce himself.

"I am Kaihaku." Booth announced in an unsure voice, just as unsure to exactly what he had to say. He rounded a corner and saw a being that reminded him of pop culture devils sitting on a throne. He had the head of a dark purple ram but the teeth of a wolf. On his left there was the head of a lion and on his right a head of a bear. Two wings of dark energy flowed behind him and a dark-looking talwar hung at his side. His muscular torso was framed by a mahogany cape, and his waist was decorated by a belt with many bells and medallions made of all the precious metals of the earth. Robes covered his legs, but Booth was sure they would be just as impressive as his torso and arms. Hooves clacked on the stone ground as he stood up and grabbed a lance with a blade that reminded Booth of a magnet atop it. It looked just as dark and evil as the talwar did.

"'Kaihaku'" The Arbiter exclaimed. Booth realized that it was programmed to recognize vowel and consonant sounds and put them together to imitate the player's voice and name, albeit in its own dark tone. "What brings you here?"

"The monks of Jubun have asked for my aid." Booth selected.

"A fool's errand. None can ascend to the Higher Power without me. Pay your tribute and be gone or die." The Arbiter said, stating his ultimatum. Booth's detection skill had been able to crank out a name for him, and it was slowly constructing a profile for him. It was a Demon-class monster, versed in Two-Handed Assault Spear and One-Handed Curved Sword, and was overall level 32. Booth smiled slightly. He was level thirty. _Good, it has been a while since the last challenge._

"I challenge you for the Sacred Vale." 'Duel to the Death' or 'Retreat'? His options said. He was hear to clear the quest. The Arbiter's two HP bars appeared in the typical fashion of local bosses and he barked an order once Booth selected 'Duel to the Death.'

"Acolytes, attack!" The ram head barked, and several warriors that reminded him of man-wolves appeared, their black armor appearing to absorb the light around it in a dark aura. _Wolf Acolyte, Level 28, Two-Handed Assault Spear._ His Detection skill read. There was five of them. Booth whipped out his One-Handed Long Sword and prepared a healing crystal in his other hand. He charged in with a battle cry, ready to face the first one. He lunged with the assault spear, but Booth used the Martial Arts skill to swat it away with Basic Center Defense. He then spun and stabbed the man-wolf in the throat, wiggling the blade a little bit to increase the damage. He pulled out before the other man-wolves could charge in and trotted backwards a little bit. He got into the Arbiter's range, however, and the Arbiter lazily swatted at Booth with the spear. Booth flipped over the spear and quickly clambered up a stone pillar, observing what he could of the battlefield once he was out of the Arbiter's range. He saw that the hit with his Pacifier sword had done a total of one tenth of the man-wolves health.

Booth wanted to laugh a little bit as he saw the Acolytes were unable to scale the pillars because of their triple-jointed legs and paws instead of feet. The Arbiter looked at him passively, his dark red eyes waiting for him to make a move or get into range. Booth responded by sheathing the sword and whipping out five shuriken while he put the healing crystal away. Hopping onto a taller pillar for safety's sake, he threw a shuriken at one of the man-wolves, hitting it right in the face. It howled and whined as its health went down by a fifth, especially after the next four shuriken struck him, each dealing an even fifth of his total HP, killing it. Booth took out five more and repeated the process. The man-wolves had gotten smart, however, and it was harder for Booth to actually hit one. The sword skills still helped him and he managed to hit all four remaining man-wolves with the shuriken, albeit expending about forty of them in the process. There were about thirteen that he could get back after combat, so he wasn't too mad about it.

"You fight well. I will honor you with a quick death." The Arbiter said, dropping his spear and unsheathing his talwar. The Arbiter himself was nine feet tall, or around that range, while Booth was only 5'7", so he started to feel the difference faster than he had hoped. Booth rolled away from the incoming blow, then threw a shuriken. It dented the Arbiter's first health bar by about a twentieth, maybe a little less, so Booth took the chance and struck the Arbiter across the back with Pacifier. the sword had an odd name, he'd give it that much, but it had a pretty decent weight and damage stat. The blow struck the Arbiter on his tail, which Booth realized was actually a snake. He leaped back, but the snake still bit him. His health dropped by a fourth and he was notified that he had five poison counters. Five damage was now being dealt per second against him.

"Only cowards will be struck at by snakes." The Arbiter stated. "So says the book of Mikkeus." Booth had never heard of a 'Mikkeus' before, so he continued fighting. The talwar came sailing down at him, but Booth's delay skill was high enough that he struck the Arbiter at the wrist, causing the talwar to stop withing inches of Booth's face and recoil back, followed by the Arbiter's howl of pain. Booth noted sourly that his health was being depleted a bit faster than he would have liked by the poison counters. The snake struck again, but Booth used Advanced Side Defence and knocked the snake head, a cobra, into the ground. '_You will crawl on your belly, and you will eat dust all the days of your life'_ Booth quoted at the snake head, _How's that for a lesson in holy texts?_ he taunted mentally. He drove Pacifier into the ground, impaling the head, and leaped back in time to avoid the talwar. He took out six shuriken from his pocket and threw all of them at the Arbiter. All six struck him across the chest, lowering his health by a fourth. _1 1/2 health bars to go_ Booth thought sourly. The Arbiter was pinned by Pacifier, but Booth didn't have a sword anymore. Booth dodged a swing from the talwar and threw another set of six shuriken at the Arbiter. two missed but the other four struck him across the face.

"Coward! Come and fight me as the book of Mikkeus commands!" The Arbiter said, quoting his holy book at Booth again. Getting any closer without a sword to the Arbiter was madness at his point, so Booth doubled back and searched his inventory for one of his older swords. He found an old Khalni sword and whipped it out, placing the flat on his back and barely blocking the unexpected blow from the Arbiter in time. He was pressed into the ground, the soil visibly denting at his feet, but Booth did a hop-squat and swung his sword around, striking the Arbiter at the wrist again. The Arbiter roared again and threw his Talwar, striking Booth across the face. Booth flew back, and suddenly noted his health was in the red. He whipped out a healing crystal and activated it, refilling his health. _Insidious Poison detected_ his screen suddenly read, and the amount of Poison counters on Booth was multiplied by ten. Booth barked in anger and realized his health was being drained at fifty points of damage per second. He beat a hasty retreat only to find that there was an invisible barrier preventing him from getting out of the Arbiter's range.

"'The coward will always attempt to flee, but the Arbiter has decreed none will be able to do so.' So says the book of Asha." The Arbiter taunted him. Booth dodged attack after attack from the Arbiter while clumsily opening up his menu. He opened up 'Equipped Skills' and switched out 'Hiding' for 'Battle Healing' as quickly as he could. His Battle regeneration skill would heal him at three hundred points of damage every ten seconds, so Booth hoped it was enough to hold him over until the battle was done. The Arbiter landed another blow on Booth, but Booth had his Khalni sword resting on his shoulder at that point, luckily for him, and most of the damage was averted. Booth yelped at his diminishing health and rolled, barely dodging the pinned snake head and landing a blow that would have hamstringed the Arbiter in real life.

"'A thief bites out of the shadows, but all will be revealed.' So says the book of Mikkeus." The Arbiter spouted at him. Booth threw six shuriken at him, lowering his health to half of the first bar. He only had a quarter of his overall health left, filling Booth with hope. _In the twilight of the battle the most grievous mistakes are made._ Booth reminded himself and readied his sword for another assault. His health was draining all too quick for Booth's liking. _Maybe if I chug potions quickly enough, I can outpace the poison._ Booth thought, tempted to drink a potion. But Booth couldn't risk it, not with Insidious Poison counters. Booth threw another set of Shuriken at the Arbiter, realizing they were his last and prepared to attack the massive goat-demon. The Arbiter's health was reduced to a sixth of his total health and Booth charged in, striking the snake head on his way. Booth swung with all his might, gutting the Arbiter and rolled between his legs. The Arbiter gave a roar of pain and fell to his knees.

"Acolytes, save me!" The Arbiter said. Booth did not want to face another cadre of man-wolves, so he rushed and dealt his final attack. The gash ran from the Arbiter's posterior all the way through his goat-head's skull. The Arbiter dealt a blow in turn, the snake head biting into Booth's chest after finally freeing itself. The Arbiter burst into brilliant blue light, and the man-wolves gave a howl of dismay. They fled as a sudden rush of monks dressed for battle arrived, the monk that had started it all among them.

"He has been infected with the Defiler's corruption!" A monk announced. Booth collapsed to the floor as a monk rushed over and used a magenta crystal on him. Booth's poison counters were gone, and the 'congratulations' sign flashed overhead. _twenty-thousand XP, five-thousand col... Extra Skill 'Piety' awarded?_ Booth opened up his menu as the monks celebrated around him and looked at the new skill:

-PIETY

-Level: 1/1000

-_Your piety and dedication to the Higher Power have granted you this ability. As long as you do not wear mankind's futile methods of protection, earthly worries and physical harm do not bother you as your holiness overwhelms it all._

-Active Effects: 5% of all incoming damage is negated and Poison Counters are negated as long as no Leather, Light Metal, Heavy Metal, Light Metal Shield, Heavy Metal Shield, or Ward equipment is equipped.

"Thank you for helping clear our sanctuary." The lead monk said. He was clad in golden chain mail, shining bright as the sun in the Sacred Vale's reflected light.

"My pleasure." Booth selected. _Quest completed._ His screen read, and the monks began to resume normal tasks around him. Booth looked at his equipment and unequipped everything that would prevent the Piety Skill's effect to come into play. Sure enough, a little glow in the form of a halo appeared on top of his head, floating idly and a small status effect appeared next to his HP bar stating that Piety was, indeed, in effect. Booth walked out of the Sacred Vale, following the path into the mountainside. He was only wearing his starter shirt and starter pants and was walking barefoot. The grass felt nice underfoot, but the rocky ground didn't. He was relieved when he arrived at the church. The cold stone floor sent tingles up and down his calves and feet. Booth stretched luxuriously in the sunlight, rejoicing in its warmth. He hated being underground. The odd player or two looked with interest at Booth's halo, then shrugged and kept walking.

"We need to meet up to discuss some details." Booth messaged Argo, knowing she would be exited about the quest.

**May 12th, 2023. 2:10 PM.**

**Floor 22: Coral City. Argo the Rat's Home/Headquarters.**

"Have you been leveling like I asked you to?" Argo said, ready to write down any information Booth had for her.

"I hit level 370 Piety yesterday." Booth said, massaging the back of his shoulder. He had gotten hit by monsters way more than he liked to admit, Piety being a defensive skill. You needed to get hit for it to level up, every point of damage negated counting towards the level up. He'd also blown most of his cash on healing items since Piety's protection was nothing at even this level. "I don't recommend Piety. Leveling it is too hard, dangerous, and costly."

"Still, what are the effects?" Argo asked, leaning forward over her virtual notepad.

"So the skill has several tiers. The amount of damage being negated is your Piety level divided by ten except for the lower levels. It was always five percent until I hit fifty, then it started going up. At first it just prevented poison counters from being placed on me. When I hit level 200, it said the Delay status effect is negated now, I haven't been willing to test that since only really high-level monsters deal Delay. As you can imagine, I negate 37.8% of all damage dealt to me."

"What do you think further tiers could bring?" Argo said.

"If anything is to be indicated at the pace it's going, I'm going to be negating 80% of all damage being dealt to me at level 800, but leveling up that high is going to be a pain." Booth said, shifting in his seat and causing his sore thighs to ache. "I wonder if it's going to be 100% of all damage at mastery, but that would be OP and unfair, so I'm guessing there might be a damage negation cap or some odd algorithm to determine how much damage I take. I noticed that the halo has been getting brighter as well." Booth said, pointing to the little halo. It's diameter had widened, now about an inch from the edge of Booth's head. It had gained a little flames effect as well.

"I noticed. It fits you." Argo said. Booth had finally gotten a Rosary from one of the churchmen, much to his relief, as he now had something to rub while praying. It also made his religious choice that more obvious to players. The Rosary and the halo atop his head made him seem... holy and otherworldly. Because Booth basically couldn't wear armor, he had a black Chinese pao with a dull red trim on, one of the few clothing items so far that looked cool and wasn't armor, along with the starter pants. He was still barefoot, most of the footwear in the game being armor of one sort or another. Booth liked walking around barefoot anyways.

Booth had had a haircut done as well. He was one of the unfortunate players who were caught with their hair uncombed or simply having a bad hair day on the SAO Incident day, so he had looked like a bum up 'till this point. He had finally reached the monetary income level where he could afford to fuss a little bit over aesthetics. His stubble was gone and his curly black locks fell smartly to the sides of his head, framing his face and forming a coal-black cascade down the back of his head and onto his shoulders.

"Thank you. Did they ever tell you you look gorgeous with those whiskers?" Booth said, referring to the make up that Argo had kept throughout it all.

"Back to business. Are you noticing any other effects?" Argo asked. She still blushed a little bit.

"You know how we get this unpleasant feeling whenever we get hit?" Booth asked, referring to the stomach-churning feeling they got. Sometimes he was willing to trade that in for actual pain, other times he was not. It was a feeling of extreme discomfort versus a feeling of pain. Booth idly bounced between both options _often_.

"Yes?" Argo asked.

"I feel it less. It doesn't hurt as much to take a hit from mobs." Booth said. Truthfully he did, but he suspected that he had become desensitized to the feeling after being in SAO for so long. A message suddenly popped up in Booth's HUD. "Hold on a sec." Booth said, raising his hand to halt words that weren't going to come out of Argo's mouth anyways. _Out of Beryl, could you get some more?_ "Do you mind if I cut the interview short? It was all the information I had anyways. I'll try and keep you informed as I go." Booth pulled out a piece of paper. "These are the mobs I've been training on, make sure to stick that on the guide. 5% damage negation is nothing, and I'd hate to see anyone get killed because of that."


	8. Stories of Aincrad 2

**Donovan's Story: **"**Ho Lee** **Schitt"**

**May 10th, 2023. 8:00 PM.  
**

**Aincrad, Floor 29: Mount Koremadeyuki**

"All right, that's a pretty good map of the area." Tix said triumphantly. He and DragonBlade had been running recon for the newly formed Knights of the Blood as mercenaries, or rather scouts-for-hire. It payed well and they got exclusive access to areas most players didn't see until the KoB declared them safe. Ever since the tragedy on the 25th floor in which so many players had been lost, lead guilds would send scouts out instead of players and would strongly recommend against players venturing into areas that weren't explored yet. They had gotten an up-close and personal look at Floor 29: Everest, properly named as it resembled the area around mount Everest. Mount Koremadeyuki replaced Mt. Everest, but it was still surrounded by its rocky brethren as its real life equivalent was. Very little of the map, as far as scouting reports went, was anything but mountainous tundra or rocky cliffs. Only one village had been found, Tibetan-themed to no one's surprise.

"I'd say this should be enough for Heathcliff-sama." DragonBlade said. Heathcliff was a genius. Ever since DragonBlade had met Heathcliff on the 26th Floor strategy meeting, he couldn't hold anything but respect for the man. He was a brilliant leader, a strong player, and the perfect figurehead for the revival that was to come among the frontliners. Tix had known a bit of Heathcliff's more... judgmental side when Donovan had killed Aiko. Even so, Tix still held a deep respect for the man, causing both of them to work for him. He was direct, efficient, and very circumspect in how he was clearing the game. Heathcliff also didn't mind busying himself with paperwork instead of being on the frontlines as well, ensuring the game was cleared efficiently.

"That's another ten thousand col for both of us." Tix said, satisfied at their efforts to map the mountain. They had laughed at first at its name, but 'Ever Snowy' proved to be a very apt name. The snow and violent winds had almost knocked Tix off the mountainside, but DragonBlade had caught ahold of Tix's scythe before he went over. Since then, Tix had mostly let DragonBlade's large size break the wind for him, the ever present red duster's tail flapping in his face constantly. Tix rubbed his eyes in their black mask. It had originally been cloth, but now it was a steel plate that conformed to his face.

"We still have to give some to Michael and the rest of the Valkyries. They are my guild." DragonBlade said, referring to Michael's guild. The Valkyries had four members in it: Michael, the valiant guild leader; Tabor, the powerful tank; Emma, a fearless spearwoman; and DragonBlade, the Red Giant. DragonBlade was famous not because his skills were in the top tiers or because he was exceptionally evil or benevolent, rather because he was the only player in the game to be 6'11". He'd found an odd niche, a bunch of foreigners living in Japan or something, because Emma was the only Japanese person who could truly claim to be part of his group of friends.

"Fine by me. I prefer to work solo, more XP and col for me." Tix said, scratching his neck. Tix didn't belong to any guild in particular, but he might well be a Valkyrie. Sora and Trona, the other two members in DragonBlade's circle of friends, were the Sky Warriors. They worked together, and everyone always joked about there being something going on between them, but nothing had been proven. Yet.

"We should head back, I don't like that storm's look." DragonBlade said, pointing to a mass of black clouds rippling with thunder. "We best advise players about that as well." They began to bear a hasty retreat down the mountainside, only to stop short.

"There's something down there, but my detection skill can't tell me exactly what." Tix said. That meant it was either a high-level monster or a local boss. Both players stealthily went down the mountain's rocky skirts, the snow falling gently around them. A massive paw suddenly fell out of a crevice in the rocks and caused several pebbles to jump up and roll down the hill. Another paw followed it, both of them as black as coal. A massive head followed, sniffing the air around it. It's massive lungs caused a rush of air that DragonBlade and Tix could hear even from a few dozen feet away.

"Give your skill some time. The longer you stay around a high-level monster, the more is revealed by your Detection skill. The level only determines how fast traits are revealed." DragonBlade whispered. Both men stayed absolutely still, knowing that the beast was more than they could handle if Tix's Detection skill wasn't high enough. The beast revealed itself completely, coming out of the cave. It was coal-black all over, it's ice blue eyes being the only interruption to the color. It looked to be five and three quarters feet tall at the top of its spine. They sort of had to guess where this point was, however, because a massive coat of fur covered it, reminding them of a lion's mane. It had a short and stubby jaw, like a mastiff.

"Snow Bear-Mastiff" Tix said after a while. It was apparently basking in the sunlight, as it didn't move at all for about fifteen minutes, allowing Tix to get a full description of it. "Level... 42. Beast-type." Tix stopped dead. "Wasn't Donovan a high-level beast tamer?"

"As far as I can remember. Why?"

"Because that thing is tameable."

**May 11th, 2023. 1:06 PM.**

**Aincrad, Floor** **22:** **Lake outside Coral City.**

Donovan basked lightly in the sunlight, his fishing rod besides him. He had been taking a break from the frontlines, a few weeks into the peaceful vacation. He had decided that players might as well need to fight in the frontlines, Donovan truly being a 'selfish pig' in soloing bosses. He had raised his Fishing and Cooking skills quite a bit, moving to the life of a passive fisherman. The local players had appeared to accept him despite his notorious reputation as he was, as they soon discovered, a gentle soul at heart. He had formed friendships with several players and most had agreed to contact each other in real life once the game was cleared. Donovan still remained the second strongest player in the game, only Heathcliff above him but many players closing the gap quickly. Donovan's raised fishing and cooking skills were helping him keep up there as well.

"Donovan!" A voice suddenly called out. Donovan looked up and saw Emma running towards him. Donovan's head suddenly filled with dread at the concept of dealing with her cascades of emotions.

"Hi, Emma." Donovan said cheerfully. The fishing rod quivered, drawing Donovan's attention. He quickly picked it up. "You're not getting away this time!" Donovan barked, reeling in the fish. They struggled for a few minutes before Donovan pulled with all his strength once the fish was in range. With a squeal, the Squid-Pig flew out of the water and landed on Emma. Emma screamed in surprise and disgust at the thing before Donovan rushed over and kicked it into a tree using a sword skill. The fish's HP emptied as Donovan's blow reduced it and its time outside of the water drained it even more.

"Gah! Get it off! Get it off!" Emma yelped despite the fish being off her. With a final squeal, the Squid-Pig died and rolled over. It disappeared into blue moxes and Donovan was awarded Squid-Pig Tentacles x8, Squid-Pig Fillet x2, and 7600 fishing XP.

"Don't worry it's dead." Donovan said, offering his hand. He had discovered an option in the barber shops that allowed hair to grow over time, an option which Donovan had activated instead of paying to get his hair "cut" to longer lengths. He now had stubble threatening to turn into a 'three-day beard' and his dreadlocks reached halfway down his back. His loose dark grey shirt flapped in the wind along with his baggy shorts. He was barefoot as well.

"Gah, that is _disgusting_." Emma said, pinching the ooze on her shirt between two fingers and lifting it up to her eye level, opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out in disgust.

"You get used to it after a while. I just wipe it off with my dreadlocks, though I guess you would have some trouble with that." Emma's hair was cut to give her a smart, militaristic look. Her straight black hair fell to her jaw line at the sides and sloped up gently as it headed to the back of her head, then began to slope down on the other side. Her bangs were pinned to the right with a bright white pin with the shape of two angel wings on a sapphire.

"Don, I came to talk to you about something." Emma said, wiping the slime off with a towel that Donovan offered to her.

"What is it?" Donovan asked, idly checking his inventory. Just in case, he was making sure that his equipment was there.

"Ever since the twenty-fifth floor, we've been having trouble with clearing floors. Many players are discouraged and are leaving the front lines."

"What would you have me do?" Donovan asked, silently dreading what was to come.

"Come back. We need every fighter we can get, and even the infamous Mahogany Justicar would be well-received if he were to help." Emma said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll think on it." Donovan said.

"Bu-" Emma started.

"_I'll think on it_." Donovan stated. "I didn't say 'no.'"

"But you didn't say 'yes' either." Emma said.

"The front lines have changed. I'm not a team player. I'll help clear floors and all, but I don't think I would do too well in a coordinated boss fight." Donovan threw off her hand with a shrug.

"Even soloers are needed more than ever. You are the best scouts, you are the hardest hitting. You may not play an organized role, rather just hang back and strike at the boss when you get the chance. Any player is welcome." Emma said pleadingly. She placed her hand on his arm, turning him around to the best of her ability.

"I'll think on it." Donovan stated, giving his ultimatum. He slung the fishing rod over his shoulder and walked away, leaving Emma standing by the lake. Donovan was going to have a troubled dinner and restless sleep tonight. He hated having to turn on Emma, but he thought, no, _knew_ that he wasn't the best person for the front lines.

Later that day, once night had fallen, two unexpected guests arrived at Donovan's house.

"'Ello?" Donovan asked, going to the door. The 'permission to enter' prompt appeared in front of his face as he walked towards the door, but he ignored it until he was right at the door. If Donovan had wanted to, he could have opened the door from his bedroom, but he believed it to be courteous even in the game to open the door for your guests and be there to receive them. He had bought a small two-room cottage with a rice paper wall dividing both rooms, but it was enough for him.

"Donovan!" DragonBlade exclaimed, picking him up in a great bear hug.

"Dragon..." Donovan wheezed out, his lungs and rib cage crushed by the giant of a man. "Hey, Tix." Donovan managed to say, waving his hand at the silent man. Tix took off his iron face mask and nodding courteously. DragonBlade finally let Donovan fall.

"Hey, guys. How's it going?" Donovan asked.

"Pretty cool. We made it to the 29th Floor a few days ago. We actually had something that might interest you." Tix said, shaking Donovan's hand when it was offered in greeting.

"And what might that be?" Donovan asked. Tix was always direct and straight to the point, so Donovan might as well do the same.

"We found a tameable beast. A _huge_ beast. It's equivalent to a level 42 player and it's a mix between a polar bear and a mastiff."

"And it's tameable." DragonBlade added in for emphasis. "You're a beast tamer, right?" Donovan snapped his fingers and three flying animals along with a scurrying creature darted out of the shadows, too fast to see what they were. Two of the fliers sat on his shoulders while the third settled on his head. The scurrying one clambered up Donovan's left leg and settled at his waist, clutching the belt Donovan wore.

"What are those?" DragonBlade asked, surprised at their speed.

"This is Dexter, a Flying Lion-Monkey." Donovan said, pulling a peanut out of his shirt pocket and handing it to the familiar atop his head. It had the face of a spider monkey surrounded by a lion's luxurious mane. It's body resembled a lion's in appearance except that it's paws were slightly elongated so it could grasp objects and had opposable thumbs and it had four eagle wings sprouting from its back. It's tail swung lazily behind Donovan as it's tawny fur shone in the gentle light. "This is Gauwdief, a River Sylkie." Donovan said proudly, taking a small fish out from his pocket and handing it to the odd hybrid on his right shoulder. It had a cat's upper torso and a squid's tentacles at the bottom, the slick skin of a newt covering it. It was a pale blue with dark blue stripes and had pitch black eyes like a shark. It opened its mouth, revealing a sharp set of needle teeth. It had gills on the side of its body that had water flowing through it, suspended by the same impossible magic that allowed it to fly.

"This is Abestia, a Jr. Phoenix." Donovan chuckled, taking out a blazing ember from his pocket and feeding it to the phoenix. Blazing griffin would have been a more apt description for it, it's four taloned tarsi clutching Donovan's loose shirt while its body feathers, more like burning coals, cast an odd orange glow on Donovan's face. It's wings rather two burning ember formations with blades of flame in place of long feathers. It's beak appeared to be solid rock while it's eyes where magma, the impossible heat distribution of the bird causing a spectacular sight. "And this is Chalyps. She's a Beryl Hog." Donovan had no treat for it, the hog didn't need any. It was an automaton, a complex metal beast made out of Beryl plates with steel gears and cogs clanking away under the semi-transparent gems. It's eyes were garnets, flashing at DragonBlade.

"Can you even have so many?" Tix asked.

"Depending on your level, you can have a certain amount of them with you, but you can tame as many as you want and keep them in your house. Few of the beast tamers discover this because they become attached to the beast they already have, I admit even I have a deep attachment to Dexter. You can tame and keep as many as you want, but you can only have a certain amount equipped at all times."

"How is it determined?" DragonBlade asked, watching as Donovan absent-mindedly stroked Chalyps.

"Your Familiar Communication level divided by 250 and another." Donovan said. "Or at least, that's what I think. I can have three, and my level is 527. I could only have one until I hit 250. The only other player I know who is that high is 'Dragon Tamer' Silica, but she's very attached to that dragon she got back on floor twenty."

"How have you kept it up? You haven't been on the front lines recently."

"Gauwdief here can fish, and ordering to do so raises my Familiar Communication level but not my Fishing level."

"Interesting... can you tame this thing?" Tix asked.

"Maybe. I've specialized in Bird-type, not Beast-type taming, but I think I can give it a shot."

**May 12th, 2023. 5:00 PM.**

******Aincrad, Floor 29: Mount Koremadeyuki**

"All right, let's see what you got." Donovan said, stretching himself in the sunlight. The Snow Bear-Mastiff eyed him warily. Donovan was outside its lair, and the beast was irked at his behavior. Donovan had brought along Chalyps since she gave him a taming-bonus. They had used Tix's Detection skill and Donovan's Familiar Communication skill together to determine exactly what would tame the beast. The discovery of what it was sickened all three players: Human Flesh x2. Donovan had made several inquiries with the information brokers that earned him awkward looks and probably a bad reputation as well. Argo the Rat had been the only one who had had any information: On floor twelve there were several bandit camps, the only human mobs in the game so far. Many players had been disgusted by what some of the shamans dropped: Human Flesh.

It had taken Donovan some effort to obtain some, but the resources ended up coming from, ironically, the guild that had been giving him a bad rep recently: the Knights of the Blood. One of the members, Ronnie, had had a few of the items lying around and wanted to get rid of them quickly before someone somehow noticed. Donovan had accepted despite the fact that he knew, unlike the desperate player, that no one could actually look at your inventory. Donovan know held the tantalizing meat at arms length as he moved closer and closer to the beast's cave. It acted like any beast would when it was being tamed, or, at least, involved in an attempted taming: it sniffed at him warily and approached cautiously.

"Come on. Come on." Donovan said, motioning with his hand. As the bear-mastiff got closer, Donovan could see that DragonBlade and Tix's original estimates were quite conceivably wrong. The wind blew at its fur, causing it to flatten against its back and massive rib cage. The top of its spine was easily six feet high, its head a little under that. Its head was easily as big as Donovan's chest, its paws as thick as his thigh and its legs as thick as his waist, about as wide as his shoulders when viewed from the side. Donovan was sure that some of its immenseness was due its thick fur, but as it got closer a little bit of doubt was nagging at that supposition. It sniffed at the meat, looked at Donovan, and then lunged.

Time seemed to freeze as Donovan watched its bottomless maw for a mouth open, lunge at him, and close around the meat and not his head. He wiped some spittle off his face and then took out some more of the grotesque treat, sometimes the indicated quantity not being enough. The mastiff looked at him lazily, then batted him away with a mighty swipe. Donovan yelped as he was launched in the air, then landed in a tree. He blew away a dreadlock from his face.

"Is that how it's gonna be?" Donovan sighed, the dog observing his unceremonious pose on the tree. Chalyps skittered around the tree, whirring madly in frustration. Donovan dropped down and picked up the meat. The mastiff observed him again as he came close, offering the meat. The Mastiff clamped down on the meat, then smacked Donovan across the face with a paw. Donovan whirled away involuntarily, crashing against a flat rock. His health had entered the red now, so Donovan took out a healing crystal and activated it, restoring his HP immediately. Donovan then chided himself and equipped his usual armor, remembering that his AP was at zero right now. He wondered if the swats had been friendly rather than an actual attack, but the mastiff wasn't his yet.

"What's it going to take?" Donovan asked it. He repeated the same tactic five more times, only to get smacked across the face by a massive paw five more times, each time lowering his HP into the red. Donovan exhaled in frustration as he lay on the ground, sore from his multiple falls. "You little bitch." Donovan said out loud, looking up into the beast's ice blue eyes. "You little son of a bitch." Donovan said as he got up, rubbing his sore butt, then laughed at his accidental joke. The mastiff barked as if laughing and jesting along with him, then began to wag its massive wolf-like tail. Donovan immediately shut up and looked at it straight in the eyes, totally serious. The mastiff stopped laughing as well and looked at him, totally serious as well.

Donovan resumed laughing, the mastiff joining him. He suddenly bolted to its side and continued, out if its reach. He tackled the great beast, catching it off guard. He had seen this in a movie once, totally unsure if it would work, but if it just meant getting batted away again, he was fine with it. Donovan and the mastiff wrestled, Donovan getting closer and closer to its head. The mastiff kept doing its laugh until Donovan got close enough to its head, then Donovan bit its ear. The mastiff yelped and kicked him away, then walked over. Donovan was sure it was going to return the favor, but a third HP bar had appeared under Chalyps' and Donovan's. It just read 'Snow Bear-Mastiff.' He was prompted to ask if he wanted to name it now, later, or just keep its name as it was.

"What on earth am I going to name you?" Donovan thought out loud. He knew three languages, English, Korean, and Japanese and he could not think of a fitting name, phrase, or adjective/adverb-noun combination that could properly describe the animal before him or its personality. For about five seconds Donovan seriously considered calling it Coal, or Noire, maybe even Kuroi or Burakku, but dismissed it. Black was its coat color, but not its personality or its core appearance. "We'll think of something." Donovan said, and petted the mastiff's head. For now its name would be Snow Bear-Mastiff. Donovan noted that a notification had popped up: 'New Familiar type: S-Class Large Beast.'

SNOW BEAR-MASTIFF

-Level: 1 (Level 42 equivalent)

-Skills: Heal 1/1000

Carry 1/1000

Mount 'Mastered'

Bite 1/1000

Claw 1/1000

Frost Breath 1/1000

-Bonuses: -10% cold in snowy areas. +50% Frostbite resistance. +10% Intimidate.

"Well, that's going to be pretty convenient." Donovan said, observing the skills. He noted that three items had been added to his inventory: a saddle and two coupons for 'Small Bag.' He put the saddle on Snow Bear-Mastiff and got on, putting Chalyps in front of him. The little Beryl hog grasped the saddle eagerly. "Onwards, noble not-steed, to ADVENTURE!" Donovan yelled, drawing his two-handed sword Erios. Snow Bear-Mastiff reared up on his two back paws, clawing at the air with the other two. Donovan's drawn sword and flailing dreadlocks created a poetic scene against the setting sun, the taming of the great beast finally over.

**May 12th, 2023. 8:57 PM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 29: KoB Forward Base of Operations.  
**

Donovan rode into town on Snow Bear-Mastiff, scaring the guards at the gate at first. As he rode into town, people began to 'ooh' and 'aah' in awe at the massive beast among them. Donovan was torn between Kuroi, Shaggy Dog, or just Ikei when he heard the name of his new Familiar.

"Ho-"

"Ly,"

"Shit!" Three players screamed in fear, bolting at the sight of the massive dog, but they had given Donovan a name. He jokingly named his new familiar Ho Lee Schitt after the three player's burst of surprise.

"You like your name, right, Lee?" Donovan asked, rubbing Lee's coat vigorously. Lee barked in agreement, or what might be taken as agreement. All Familiars seemed content with whatever name you gave them. "Be thankful I didn't name you Penis Lord or something like that. The names I've seen on some familiars." Donovan said with a chuckle. Lee just licked Donovan's face. "You like your name, don't you? You just love it!" Donovan said, walking Lee over to the KoB FBO at Xiudaoyuan, handing Lee's leash to the startled guard outside as he walked into the building. It was back to the front lines for Donovan, Lee, Chalyps, Gauwdief, Dexter, and Abestia. It was, after all, their true home.

.

**Emma/Trona's Story Part 1: **"Sisters or more?"

**May 11th, 2023. 8:03 PM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 8: Friben Village, Valkyries HQ**

Emma lay down on her bed, finally allowing the tears to break through. She sobbed and she wailed, finding no comfort in Donovan's constant rejections. She had been a fool, that first time, knowing Donovan's 'gentleman'-like demeanor would prevent him from sleeping with her. He was a saint on the outside, but Emma knew he had had his fair share of girls. She loved him nonetheless, and she couldn't hold that facet of him against Donovan, he wouldn't have been her first. Still, they both didn't look like it, Donovan with his saintly mannerisms and his Catholic brother, Emma had her innocent appearance.

Why had he rejected her this time? Was it the way she presented herself? Was it her new hair? Had he... had he met someone else? He had stayed away from the front lines, so she could disqualify such guild poster-girls like the likes of Asuna or Yulier, but there were pretty girls outside of the front lines as well. Emma brainstormed any reasons why Donovan might not take her.

"Emma? Are you all right?" A knock sounded on her door, Tabor's voice. He was so sweet and straightforward, albeit easy to trick or cheat.

"I'm fine. Don't worry, Tabor, I stubbed my toe on the bed." Emma answered.

"OK." Tabor confirmed, walking away, his huge armor clanking as he left. Tabor trusted her completely, forgetting that there was no pain in the game, just soreness at most. Emma stared up at the sealing, her eyes were dried now. What was it?

"Emma." Trona's voice suddenly said. Emma looked around and found the door to be still locked.

"Yes?"

"Can I come in?" Trona asked. Emma went over and opened the door, Trona's eyes widening ever so slightly. Emma probably looked a mess, her face all puffy and tear streaked. "What's wrong?"

"Come in, you're the only one with any Listening anyways." Emma said, inviting her in. Trona shut the door after her, but it didn't close completely.

"What's wrong, Emma? Did something really bad happen? Is everyone all right?" Trona asked. Emma was sure she was an American because of how she looked and her Japanese accent. Trona also had that hasty way of speaking and direct manner most Americans had.

"It's... well, I suppose you can't help if you don't know." Emma told Trona her sorrows and her fears, her unrequited love for Donovan.

"I can tell you love him a lot." Trona said.

"Well, yes. I do. But I don't know why he won't take me." Emma said, looking into Trona's light purple eyes. It was very possible she had been wearing colored contacts on Tutorial day.

"Have you ever considered, and it's just a thought, that maybe Donovan doesn't _love_ you?" Trona asked, phrasing the question carefully.

"Of course he does! Haven't you seen how... how... how..." Emma started up, her voice getting lower with every 'how.' She faced a reality she had not considered. A reality which, although she refused to admit it, had been blinded to by her own infatuation with the dreadlocked boy.

"Love is pointless if the other person doesn't accept or return the feeling." Trona said, stroking Emma's hair. "Still, I'm sure there are other people who love you in the same way you love him. Tabor, maybe?"

"I don't know who he likes. He doesn't really hold feelings for someone for long without someone finding out. It's not in him to not tell people."

"Michael?" Trona proposed.

"He practically married his god and became a priest. I don't think he'd ever accept me." Emma said. Unless she had caused a boy to become star-struck while walking through the streets, she could not think of anyone else.

"Have you considered... me?" Trona asked. Emma's mind suddenly jumped. She'd been looking into Trona's eyes so much she never noticed how close she had been getting. Trona started to gently stroke the inside of Emma's thigh with her own hand.

"It's... I... wh-"

"I'm Donovan tonight. For you, I'd be anyone." Trona said, gently laying a kiss on Emma's lips. Emma was surprised at how much it felt like a guy's kiss if she didn't think about it too much. She was so desperate for comfort, so desperate for love of any sort, that she allowed Trona to have her ways with her body. Trona slowly kissed her again, then moved around to behind Emma, kissing her neck as she went. Emma imagined it was Donovan depositing those kisses, Donovan running her hands up and down the inside of her thighs, Donovan undoing the cloak on her shoulders. Emma momentarily paused to grant Trona permission to remove her equipment and kept basking in the feeling of 'Donovan's' caresses. Her illusion was seldom broken, only when Trona's large breasts pressed against her or when she opened her eyes did it disappear, but for the rest of the time it was Donovan. Eventually, Emma and Trona got louder and louder, and that was when the door opened fully. Michael stood in the doorway, his full musketeer garment on. His eyes burned with fire, his forehead wrinkled with fury. Both girls yelped and covered themselves with the blankets.

"Michael, I..." Emma began, but Michael held nothing but contempt in his eyes for her. Trona stared him down evenly. This was evidently not her first time being caught in the hay.

"Michael, what a pleasant surprise. Do you want to come join us?" Trona asked, letting the cover fall. At some point, Emma had taken off Trona's white jacket and zipped down the black jumpsuit to her navel, revealing her shoulders and chest. Michael looked into her eyes, deadpan. He was still visibly struggling to keep his eyes off her treasures. She walked over and pressed herself against him, demurely smiling as she stroked his chest, her fingers going over the neckerchief on his uniform. Michael looked her in the eye, nonchalantly. The angel and the dark seductress stared each other down evenly, Trona's body against Michael's self-control.

"No. I should..." Michael looked up at the ceiling pensively. The second sentence had been about to be formulated as a threat. Trona leaned over and began licking his neck, tracing its curve with her tongue as she moved up towards his lips. Michael's eyes swelled with fury and he did the unthinkable: he backhanded her across the face. It wasn't as strong a blow as he would have dealt to a man, but it was no loving gesture either. Trona reeled back, struggling to maintain her balance. Michael's player crystal had turned orange.

"Don't ever try that again." Michael said. "If you must commit this abhorrent act," tears welled up in Michael's eyes as he looked at Emma, the combined weight of his regret of striking Trona and his disappointment at Emma's actions allowing one tear to break through, quickly followed by more, "at least do so with the door closed." Michael looked over at Trona, a red, hand-shaped mark on her face. "I'm sorry. I should have never struck you, but you crossed a line." Michael shut the door as he walked out.

"I'm so sorry! Michael shouldn't ha-" Emma started apologizing to Trona.

"No, I should have known better to cross choir-boy there. I've seen religious people before, but they all fell to me. Michael... he's got conviction I tell you." Trona said. Emma noticed a tinge of respect and admiration in Trona's voice, but also that of a challenge unfulfilled. Evidently, this wasn't the first time Trona had tried to get under Michael's bed sheets. Trona loved a challenge. Still, she could also respect a facet of Michael that had flown to the surface, defending the rest of him with its adamant strength. Michael didn't go to it half-way like many in the several faiths of the world, He took it in with all the hooks, lines, and sinkers, keeping true to his faith through thick and thin. Trona had slept with more Catholics and Christians than she could count, and she hated their hypocrisy.

"Here, I'll... I'll try and make it up to you somehow." Emma said.

"Oh, I know you will." Trona said, fully unequipping her jumpsuit. That was the first night of many to come, and Emma indeed did make up for Michael's physical reprimand.

.

**Tix's Story: **"Way of the Samurai"

**June 11th, 2023. 2:13 PM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 32: Shin Nippon, Meimu Kyoto.**

Of all the floors Tix had been on, no floor pained him as much as Shin Nippon did. All of its cities carried the prefix Meimu in their names. Meimu meant precisely what the cities were: an illusion, a mere fallacy or delusion. No other word could describe Meimu Kyoto and Meimu Tokyo and so on as aptly as that one could. Had Kayaba purposed to trouble them so cruelly with these cities? Was it a way to remind them of home? Meimu Kyoto was a city that imitated the Japanese capitol of Kyoto on a scale of 1:100 and with a more Feudal Japan feel to it. But if you knew where you were in relation to any landmark in Kyoto and placed yourself in a 1:10 location from the Meimu Kyoto landmark and just kept walking with that scale in mind, you could visit any area in Meimu Kyoto and recognize the painful similarities to Kyoto. It was the same for all the other cities, though the scale varied. Meimu Kyoto was the largest and was easily the most accurate to navigate.

"The US Embassy would be right about here." Donovan said next to Tix.

"Why do you say that, Shadu-Sensei?" Tix asked. Ever since it had become common knowledge that Donovan had tamed the illusory Snow Bear-Mastiff, everyone referred to him as Shadusuneku-Sensei, Shadu-Sensei, or Shadu-Sama.

"How many times have I asked you to not call me that?" Donovan asked, crouching down then wearily sitting with his legs crossed, observing the spot he had declared to be the US Embassy.

"Seven, to be precise." Tix said.

"If I truly was worthy of the honorific -Sensei or -Sama, how many times should have been necessary?" Donovan then asked, rubbing his temple. Silica-chan the Dragon Tamer popped into his mind. They called her Silica-Sama once, before she became the poster-girl/mascot of whatever party she was in, then Silica-chan started. She had let it get to her head along with 'Dragon Tamer' and was reportedly quite arrogant. Donovan wouldn't allow himself that pleasure. His time spent drowning in self-pity and remorse over Aiko's life cut short had shifted his mind's perspective. He was a man now, had a different perspective, a different level of maturity. Arrogance was not his flavor anymore. The great Beast Tamers often had, if not what could be called a convention, a meeting of sorts. Silica-chan had referred to herself as ore-sama in one. _Ore-Sama_ Donovan thought in disgust. The arrogance behind the self-appointed title was immeasurable. You could say that Donovan was the only humble Beast Tamer, albeit the most recent to perform a great feat of taming. Many had heard his struggle of taming Lee, but it had gotten to the point where Donovan wasn't batted away seven times, rather he was batted away consistently for seven days before the beast yielded.

"It would only be necessary once." Tix said.

"If you must use an honorific, Tix-kun, live by what it implies." Tix reflected on the statement. Shadu-Sama had earned his title by becoming a master of Beast Taming, his chosen art, therefore earning the honorific '-Sensei' and the honorific '-Sama' by holding Tix's deepest respect. Donovan called Tix 'Tix-kun' (pronounced Tix-o-kun since no consonant can stand alone in the Japanese language, such a thing simply not existing) because they were close friends, '-kun' used among male friends.

"Very well, Shadusuneku. What should I refer to you as?" Tix said. Tix felt Donovan's eyes scour him from top to bottom. Tix was some sort of odd mix between all the Asian races in appearance. If you grew up among Asians, you learned the differences. Tix had traits from all the races, however. Tix had his mask off, so Donovan could see his sort of unkempt face.

"If you had done what I have done and achieved what I have achieved, what would you have yourself referred to as?" Donovan said. Lee had lain behind Donovan, allowing him to lean on his massive rib cage for support. Tix watched as Donovan observed the weapons shop that occupied the place the US Embassy would in real life.

"I would claim what custom allows me to claim. I would have myself referred to as 'Tix-Sensei.'" Tix said.

"Then I will allow you to call me Donovan-Sama, or Don-Sama should you please. It sounds better." Donovan said, scratching his thin beard. "I thought of the Embassy because that is where my father works."

"You are an American citizen then?" Tix asked, sitting down next to Donovan. Tix had asked him to come along, Donovan had acceded. Tix didn't want to go near his real life house alone.

"Honorarily, really. I may be Caucasian, but I am a Japanese citizen to the core. Should sides need to be chosen, I would pick Japan."

"I would like to visit my house now. I did not know your father was an embassy worker. What position does he occupy?" Tix asked as he got up.

"He was head of the security. Or, at least, the security force. He was the man in charge of all the marines. That's why I have this:" Donovan said, flexing his forearm, showing how he was in great shape. "If it weren't for him, I would probably look as my body looks now in real life: skinny and gaunt."

"My father ran a Kendo dojo for a living. He was very cruel to me and my brothers. He would drill us endlessly, seeking that we would become champions. His pride blinded him, however, and we left as soon as we could. I haven't seen him since." Tix said.

"You should visit him. No father should die without having reconciled all differences with their son." Donovan said. Tix had been counting the steps they took.

"This is where I had my first kiss..." Tix said, looking up. A tear sort of welled up in his eye. "She has probably forgotten me by now. We barely dated a week, but that was enough for my heart to be shattered when it ended."

"Should we go to Nijo-jo Castle I could have my moment of remorse over a girl."

"Don't we all?" Tix said. "We could go. I'm curious to see if Kayaba kept it as it is." Donovan got atop Lee with Tix behind him. They carefully counted the distance and ended up in Nijo-jo's general area, then used their own memories and a methodical trial-and-error street comb to find it.

"Looks just the same..." Donovan said. "The girl I kissed here..." Donovan said, pointing at the gateway with a small pond next to it, koi swimming around the reeds and lily pads, "it was Emma. I leaned in and kissed her when I thought the moment was right, which it normally would have, but her feelings weren't the same for me and she ended up slapping me." Tix chuckled. "Of course, our roles are sort of inverted now as you may have heard." Tix had heard that Emma had been chasing Donovan desperately, but she had apparently settled for Trona. Tix felt sort of envious, but Trona always gave him the creeps for some reason. It might be because of how cold she was if she wasn't interested in you.

"Ah, Don-Sama," Tix said, "I think you probably have a thousand funny stories to tell. I wish I could hear them all." Tix looked into the skies, watching a shooting star. "That's always a funny one. Tell me about your first time."

"My first _what_?" Donovan asked, suspicious at what Tix was asking.

"First time with a girl."

"Well... back when it happened, I didn't understand the advantage I carried over Japanese boys because of my different race. Foreigners always have that advantage, the difference between them and the rest. I didn't really understand this advantage, so I thought no girl would take me, being a skinny thirteen year-old. I was desperate without knowing what I could have gone after, so it was one of the... well in school she was..." Donovan sighed, "We called her the 'Shibō no umi no kaibutsu'." Tix burst out laughing at Donovan's first time being with a girl known as 'fat sea monster' while Donovan recounted the awkward afternoon. "How was your first time?"

"I had just won a Kendo tourney. There was this one girl, one of my opponents' sister. After the fight, she came into my personal locker room (it was my father's dojo) with her brother's equipment. I had been showering. It wasn't my first that was awkward, it was my second. See, this one girl was a masochist, and her brother's fight with me had turned her on _big time_ because you could hear the hits I landed a block from the dojo. So yeah... it formulated my idea of what you treat a lady like, and when I finally gathered the courage to date and bed a girl on the choir... well, things didn't go well..." Tix said. Donovan laughed and laughed. Tix and Donovan made mostly small talk until the moon was high in the sky. Then they began to pace around the castle grounds.

"It's nice to have these nights, talk about things that have us tense, get to know each other." Tix said.

"It is indeed." Donovan said. Donovan turned around to look at Tix. "How long do you think it will take to clear the game?"

"I don't know..." Tix said, scratching the stubble at his chin. "It's taken us... about 8 months to get to the 33rd floor. At that rate, we'll clear the game in about 24 months, give or take a few."

"Three years..."

"I'll be 21." Tix said.

"19." Donovan said. Tix looked at Donovan. He didn't look sixteen with the light beard he had allowed to develop. He also carried a sort of weight on his shoulders that hunched him, probably Aiko's death. Tix hadn't been able to believe what had happened when he heard, but Donovan's changed demeanor had proved it to him. He missed the cheerful young boy who had started playing the game.

"You don't look your age." Tix observed, putting his thoughts into words.

"It's the beard. I did it on purpose." Donovan said. They star gazed a little bit, the moon about to set.

"Let's go accomplish what we came to do." Tix said, getting up. He stretched this way, then that way, and took a step forward. A trap door suddenly opened under him, and Tix fell down with a startled yelp. He managed to clutch the edge at the last possible second, preventing him from falling in.

"Tix-kun!" Donovan said, getting up and making a grab for Tix's hands, but the trap door shut on them, recoiling back when they struck human flesh. Tix was forced to let go with a yelp, shooting down the hole. Donovan managed to pull off the impossible and grab the very tip of Tix's glove. In real life, the glove would have slid off, but Donovan didn't have the authority to remove Tix's equipment, so it was a staunch handhold in the game.

"Don't let go!" Donovan yelled down. Tix grabbed onto Donovan's vambrace, the same rule making it a sure grip. The doors swung again, striking Donovan's forearm. Donovan's HP went down a surprising amount, bringing it down to three-quarters. "I just got a quarter of my HP knocked off, I'm going to have to let go if we both don't want to die!"

"Almost got the-" Tix began, scaling up Donovan's arm. Then the trapdoor struck him in the head. Tix fell, unconscious, into the trap. Donovan screamed his name out, but Tix fell nonetheless.

**June 12th, 2023. 4:00 AM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 32: Nijo-jo dungeon.**

Tix lay there unconsciously for about half an hour before coming to his senses again. With a moan and a groan, he vaulted up unto his feet in one swift motion.

"Donovan-Sama!" Tix yelled up the hole, but only silence answered. "Donovan! Don! Where are you?! Where am _I_?" Tix looked around him, realizing he was in a cell of some sort. No, it was too big to be a cell. It was a large circle, about forty meters in diameter, surrounded by bars. A faint blue glow seemed to emanate from the stones that formed the floor. Any stone that was stepped on began to glow full blue, lighting up the room. Bars with the occasional red flag on them surrounded him. He could not see the top.

"What do we do with this one?" A voice suddenly asked.

"Has another fallen?" Another asked in turn.

"Or has another come to attempt the Warrior's Crucible?" The third and final voice asked. Tix didn't recognize any of the voices, but they sounded like old men. They were unusually rapid as well, even for Japanese.

"We must ignore all else except that he has fallen in here."

"But such a boy? He does not look strong enough." Tix gazed around at the room. The situation reminded him of the Death's Handyman quest. _Is that it? Another mini-dungeon?_ Tix thought. He was prompted on the screen to say something. Tix sighed and read out loud the prompt.

"I have come here to claim my right. The Way of the Samurai, the Dragon's Rage!" Tix announced.

"He is a voluntary."

"Very well, boy."

"As you wish. Let the tourney commence. Only one shall have the training. Only one will be found worthy!" The first voice said. The other two voiced their agreement. "Release the first contestant!" Tix grasped the scythe on his back, not yet drawing it. It was a rare skill, only seven people had it, but only four used it, so finding better scythes was hard. They often came as quest rewards, so Tix thought his scythe skill had triggered the event. The first contestant was a cat-man wearing simple brown robes and a sugegasa on his head, two HP bars appeared next to its head, no name being given. He withdrew a Shuang Gou from inside the robe and readied it. Tix thought it was funny since most people used two at the same time. The scythe and the hook sword would be an interesting match up, both having that facet were they could swat and hook the opponent's weapon away.

"BEGIN!" The second voice said, and the cat-man ran forward, hissing. Tix stood his guard and kept the scythe in its holster. Enemies in SAO adapted to your weapon and style, so the longer it took you to defeat them, the harder it became. Some bosses had even seen through the pot-and-switch strategy recently. Tix wanted to reveal his scythe at the last possible second. The cat-man hissed at him and swung the blade, Tix ducked under, Matrix-style, and slid forward. The cat-man sailed over, and Tix withdrew his scythe and stood up, bringing it down with both arms. Tix had been drilled endlessly in Kendo technique by his father, and the first move you learned was to hold your sword up in a high defense and bring it down with both arms. Tix brought the scythe down in a similar manner, impaling the cat-man through the abdomen into the ground. It yowled, unable to move, desperately looking around for something to use to its advantage. Tix kept the scythe pressed down, preventing the cat-man from moving. Its HP drained slowly, but Tix was patient, and he was rewarded with a burst of blue moxes.

"Release the second contestant!" The first voice announced. Tix turned around and saw a raging bull-man go for him, the oddest-looking spear in his hands. It had a crescent moon blade on its tip instead of the usual diamond-shaped blade. The bull bellowed and swung the spear, not so much for stabbing as to swat from side to side, the crescent moon making it a bit past the opponent's defense. Tix moved his scythe in a circle, causing the spear to sling up and then slashed the bull-man across the face. The pattern continued for several minutes, the bull never once changing its attack pattern. Tix was sweating from the exertion now, his in-game lungs burning, but the bull's final HP bar was almost empty.

The bull suddenly threw its spear in a circular pattern at Tix, the left crescent impaling itself into his side. Tix gasped and fell to a knee from the sudden force, the bull's objective accomplished. It lowered its horns and pawed at the ground on all fours. Tix struggled to remove the crescent blade, the time and his own exhaustion weighing heavily on him and caused him to botch several removals. He finally succeeded, but the bull was already charging. Tix barely managed to dodge to one side, but in that much he was successful. Tix looked back over his shoulder and saw what he had expected to see: The bull had impaled himself on his own spear. In its mad rush against Tix, it had not seen him set it into the ground.

"Beat it." Tix said, taunting the dying bull. It made one last attempt to even get close to Tix, but it just collapsed to the ground, disappearing into the typical blue moxes.

"Release the General!" Tix heard hooves behind him and turned, jumping to the side just in time. _What is he doing _here_?_ Tix thought. Recognizing his opponent: A large, dull red minotaur with a bone warhammer. It was big, it was tall, it was massive, and it had come back from the dead for him. _Baran the General Taurus!_ There _was_ something that was just off about his appearance though. He was... different, Tix couldn't quite put his finger on it. _Are you back for revenge?_ Tix thought to himself. Two players had struck Baran at the same time, but Tix had gotten the last hit bonus: some boots that increased STR. It would be funny to think that maybe this quest was only activated by people who had dealt the final blow to a boss.

"Come and get some!" Tix yelled at Baran. Baran turned and charged. Baran had been on Floor 2, and he was the Floor Boss, so his level was around thirty. Tix was 41, so he wasn't too worried about it being a higher level than him. In fact, because Baran was a floor boss and Tix was a higher level, it might be an even fight. Baran swung his warhammer as he ran forward, but Tix knew his attack patterns, knew his HP triggers, it was not a fair fight after all. Tix rolled under the warhammer and stuck his scythe into Baran's stomach, sweeping it down a moment later. It would have gutted Baran if he had been real, but it only caused a thick, deep gash of orange-red into Baran's muscular stomach. Baran roared and swung around, but Tix knew the attack pattern. The warhammer swung through empty air, Tix's scythe following in its wake and raking across Baran's arm. Baran roared in frustration, then brought his warhammer to bear, its eyes analytically looking at Tix. _His eyes!_ Tix saw, noting what had been off about Baran. His eyes were milk-white, unseeing, and bloodshot all the way through. His fur was duller than he had remembered, his muscles stringier. This was a zombie-fied version of Baran!

"I've faced a floor full of zombies, you aren't any different." Tix said confidently, remembering that God-forsaken floor. Baran roared in Tix's face, Tix responded by impaling the scythe into the side of Baran's face. The minotaur suddenly grasped the scythe and swung. _That's new_ Tix thought, distributing the shock of the landing with a roll, then using his remaining inertia to stand up fully. Tix quickly took out an older scythe and wielded it in his left hand, he didn't want to lose the blade to Baran after all, his best scythe in 'Snatch' status. Baran tossed the scythe to a side and Tix ran to meet its onslaught. Baran grunted in surprise as Tix led him closer and closer to the bars. Baran swung, but Tix was out of his range. In frustration, Baran swung again, blindly, and doomed himself: The warhammer became stuck between two bars. To avoid a player obtaining a boss weapon, it was programmed that a boss could not let go of his weapon unless the boss was programmed to release it, as Illfang had been, so Baran was now stuck to the bars. Tix grinned as he went over and retrieved his best scythe.

"You're mine now, buddy." Tix said, raising Black Reaper to bear. Baran turned back and its eyes widened in fear. Tix walked over and calmly killed Baran.

"Congratulations, Tix-san. You have cleared the warrior's crucible. We now present you with the lessons we can give from your opponents: First, never attack rashly, your first opponent fell this way." A cat-man elder, its fur gone snowy-white long ago because of age walked out of the shadows. He had two Shuang Gou and wore an elaborate brown kimono. Tix understood it to be it was his first opponent but perfect.

"Second, always pay attention to what your opponent is doing, your second opponent fell this way." A bull-man walked out, wielding the same crescent moon spear and a set of dull gold armor.

"And third, remember your opponents well. Anything you learn in a fight will serve you later on." Baran the General Taurus stepped out of the shadows.

"We have deemed you worthy,"

" powerful,"

" and wise enough to give you our knowledge of a unique technique. In our tongue, it may be literally translated as Dragon's Fury, but the closest thing to the true contextual meaning of this phrase means 'Blitz' more accurately in yours." Baran said. "You will be returned to your world now. Take our ethereal knowledge with you, but do not give it to anyone else."

"There are those who would misuse it."

"And those who would be consumed by it."

"Goodbye," They all said in unison, "and may you triumph in all your battles, and die a warrior's honorable death." A burst of flames surrounded Tix, and he disappeared into the fiery portal.

**June 12th, 2023. 4:57 PM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 32: Nijo-jo Castle.**

_Not another friend_ Donovan thought sullenly. _Can I not keep anyone alive?_ He had already spent almost an hour searching Nijo-jo Castle for an entrance of some sort, going so far so as to jump repeatedly on the trap door, but nothing worked. Donovan suddenly reeled back as sparks and flames erupted behind him. Tix suddenly burst out of them, and Donovan ran up to hug him.

"You idiot! I just had one of the worst hours in my life!" Donovan exclaimed.

"You will not believe what I got!" Tix said, bringing up his menu.

BLITZ

-Level: 1/1000

-_You feel the fury of the dragon coarse through you as you face your opponents, the spirit of the dragon bursting forth with your every move. Your soul is bared in this moment of passion, however, so your opponents will take advantage of your burst of strength._

-Active Effects: +5% intimidate.

-Activated Effects: When Blitz is activated, you deal +X% damage where X is your Blitz level divided by ten until Blitz is deactivated. Any incoming damage is increased by +X% where X is your Blitz level divided by ten.

"Let's go test it out, shall we?" Donovan proposed.

.

**DragonBlade's Story: **"Frontline Insulation Remediation"

**June 20th, 2023. 1:00 PM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 1: Black Iron Castle.**

"What do you think is so different between us and the frontliners?" A player had once asked his friend as DragonBlade and the rest of the Valkyries had walked past. What was so different between frontliners and the rest of the in-game players? There was that steely determination, for one. But above all there was the higher levels. All frontliners had insane levels compared to the rest of the in-game populace. The Valkyries were no exception, and they were actually considered the fifth best clearer guild, but closely following the Swords of Heaven guild. Now, DragonBlade came to a forgotten guild to address the issue.

"Thinker-Sama." DragonBlade said, bowing low to Thinker. Thinker was the leader of the guild MMO Today, really just Aincrad's most reliable information source.

"You and your friend... Tix-san, I think it was, have always been so formal. Most people in SAO don't even use the honorific '-san' or '-kun' anymore. It makes me feel as if I was in America or some place like that." Thinker turned from his desk, the window silhouetting him. "Every time either Tix-san, you, or both of you come it brings me joy. More information is made known, more lives are saved, possibly."

"It brings me joy to hear we are making a difference." DragonBlade said.

"Tell me, Dragon-san, what have you come to me for?" Thinker asked. The door suddenly opened.

"Thinker-san!" A female voice suddenly said. "Kibaou wishes to speak to you." Thinker's second in command, Yulier, strode into the room, causing DragonBlade to blush.

"Tell him I am in a meeting with a friend." Thinker said calmly.

"He demands an audience right now." Yulier said. "Since we joined him to make the ALC, he and several others have been calling for him to become leader. He says he wishes to challenge you to a duel in front of everyone." Thinker sighed. Since the beginning, he had dedicated himself to gathering information along with Argo and a few others to make a survival guide. Now they ran a newspaper along with the guide, but so much effort had been put into it that Thinker along with several others were incredibly low-level. Kibaou had been hogging several hunting grounds recently as well. That, along with the first floor of a dungeon underneath the castle having been discovered, had led him and his supporters to be very high level.

"I should have known such a day would come..." Thinker said, referring to the fact that Kibaou would attempt a take-over by duel, somehow finding out about Thinker's lower level despite the latter's efforts to conceal it.

"Allow me to champion you." DragonBlade said. He felt very much obliged to help Thinker.

"They would view that as a sign of weakness... Even if they did allow it, it wouldn't be long before they challenged me to a duel again. Factions have been forming, I knew it was only a matter of time... And with Kibaou's new methods and ideals... Who knows what will become of MMO Today or the Army." Thinker said, ponderously sitting down on the chair.

"Call it a three on three duel." DragonBlade said, but Thinker shook his head, Yulier made an equal gesture. "Or..." Dragonblade started with a smile.

**June 20th, 2023. 1:09 PM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 1: Black Iron Castle Courtyard.**

"Where is the gangly nerd?" Kibaou asked his advisor. He looked quite grand, garbed in the magnificent gunmetal grey armor of The Army. Ever since MMO Today's union with Aincrad Liberation Force, forming the Aincrad Liberation Corp, they had divided themselves into The Army and The Informants. The Army led the more intense and violent activities, such as occasional skirmishes on the front lines and acting as the police in Aincrad, The Informants continued doing MMO Today's job. The dark green cape on the armor had been replaced with a bright crimson cape. He also had a smaller shield than most of the members.

"I don't know, sir." Daichi said. Daichi was his second in command.

"Don't you mean the guild leader?" Yulier asked. She had walked out into the circle of spectators.

"Whatever, I challenged the guild leader for control of the guild. I would have my duel." Kibaou said.

"The _guild leader_?" Yulier asked.

"Yes, the guild leader." Kibaou said.

"Send him a duel request. He will be obliged to accept..." Yulier said, wondering if their plan would work. Kibaou opened up the menu and sent a duel request to the guild leader for dominance, the win condition being bringing the opponent's HP into the red zone. The request was sent to the guild leader, and he accepted. DragonBlade strolled out of the gate, Thinker right behind him. The Duel sign hovered over the spectators, but DragonBlade's face was were Thinker's should have been.

"What?! What is this? I sent a duel request to Thinker-yatsu!" Kibaou exclaimed.

"No, you sent it to the guild leader. I'm the guild leader now." DragonBlade said. Kibaou looked into his inbox and, sure enough, a notification was there that leadership had changed in his guild as of thirty seconds ago.

"What? No!" Kibaou exclaimed. He tried to exit, but the duel counter had begun.

"If I win, you must no longer attempt any Duel-Bids at the leadership of the guild." DragonBlade said, showing the stakes that had been established in the Duel-Bid. "If I lose, you become guild leader and Thinker cannot make any Duel-Bids."

"Very well." Kibaou said, but he swallowed nervously as he did. The duel counter hit zero, and Kibaou exploded into action, desperate. Neither knew the other one's level, but both had a very good sense of what the other one was. Kibaou had been away from the frontlines since forever. DragonBlade was just in from the 34th Floor Boss fight. Kibaou withdrew his bastard sword, Fang of the Ancients, and swung at DragonBlade. DragonBlade dodged it smoothly despite his large size and withdrew his katana.

The Katana Skill was just being known among players as everyone found out about it. You had to have a Curved Blade Skill of 600 to get it, so so far only DragonBlade and three other players, all of them clearers unsurprisingly, had it. It was barely 172/1000 for DragonBlade, but it had an interesting function. It was a completely separate skill from the other sword skills because it was a mix of One-Handed and Two-Handed techniques. You had the swing-and-hit strength of a Two-Handed Sword and the free hand along with swing rate of a One-Handed Sword. Kibaou turned and saw the unusual weapon. DragonBlade turned around with a swirl of his Red Duster and faced down the usurper.

"Scared, fang-lord?" DragonBlade asked, taunting Kibaou's username. "I think you bark more than you bite." Kibaou roared and charged again, furious at DragonBlade's taunts. DragonBlade swatted away Kibaou's bastard sword and used his Martial Arts skill to punch Kibaou in the gap between his chest plate and the plate covering Kibaou's stomach. 'Air' whooshed out of Kibaou's mouth as he flew back from the blow. The punch still didn't deal much damage, but it allowed DragobBlade to catch a moment's breath.

"Come on, weren't you the strongest player a few months ago?" DragonBlade taunted. He slashed at Kibaou, but the usurper was surprisingly agile despite his bulky armor, so the slash missed. Kibaou brought his shield to bear just in time to block DragonBlade's next blow, DragonBlade's katana bouncing upwards from the recoil, giving Kibaou a chance to hit DragonBlade. DragonBlade, however, whirled and dodged Kibaou's thrust, then brought down his katana, only to be met by Kibaou's shield. Slash and block, thrust and whirl, the sounds of clashing metal echoed around the Black Iron Castle.

"I think Thinker-san would have no trouble defeating you, actually." DragonBlade said, laughing and blocking Kibaou's next furious slashes and thrusts without missing a beat. Kibaou managed to land a blow, however, wounding DragonBlade's pride more than anything along with some of his HP. DragonBlade struck Kibaou's shield with his katana in response, knocking Kibaou back a few meters. DragonBlade then launched himself at Kibaou and struck four quick blows across the player's shield, knocking him back further. On the fourth blow, DragonBlade was rewarded with an opening in Kibaou's defense, to which his katana sailed with surprising speed. Kibaou gasped in surprise at being impaled with the katana, then lifted up by DragonBlade. DragonBlade tossed him around a little bit, then swung his sword into the ground, Kibaou sliding off of it and rolling a few feet back. His health had entered the bottom of the yellow zone, giving Kibaou a little bit more motivation. Kibaou hadn't even lowered DragonBlade's health by a tenth.

"This is easier than sparring with a rag doll." DragonBlade exclaimed. Kibaou looked up, all the determination gone from his eyes. _Unless_...Kibaou thought. He picked up his sword and ran forward, roaring the whole way. DragonBlade met him with open arms. Kibaou's blade went clean through the massive player's stomach, and Kibaou gave a shout of triumph. In real life, Kibaou would have won then and there, but then again, he would have died as well a few moments ago. DragonBlade looked down at Kibaou evenly, then grasped Kibaou's arm, preventing his escape. Kibaou gave a sudden gasp of surprise as DragonBlade's katana went in through his throat and into his torso, coming out in between Kibaou's legs. Both players looked at the other one evenly in the eye, watching the other's health go down gradually. Kibaou's, of course, hit red first.

"You may no longer Duel-bid for the leadership of the guild." DragonBlade said, releasing Kibaou from his grip and withdrawing his sword. Kibaou looked in shock at the 'congratulations' sign hovering above DragonBlade. The 'safe zone' status was enacted on both players immediately, however, and Kibaou was comically launched out the Black Iron Castle's gates since his sword was launched as well.

"Thank you, Dragon-san, for allowing me to keep my position." Thinker told DragonBlade.

"Be always on your watch, Thinker, you never saw Kibaou's duel-bid coming in reality. You just said that so you wouldn't look the fool in your office. Kibaou really wants this position, be ever on your guard." DragonBlade said, putting his hands on Thinker's shoulders and giving them a healthy squeeze. "You are far, far too trusting of others."

"Yes, I will do my best." Thinker said, ashamed of his lighter side.

"Being a trusting person is nothing to be ashamed of. It is very honorable, in fact." DragonBlade said, lightly tapping the side of Thinker's face with the palm of his hand. "Just don't let it blind you to those who shouldn't be trusted at all."

"You mentioned that you needed a favor of me?" Thinker said, remembering why DragonBlade had come in the first place.

"Today I saw several players training up on several mobs, the ones that the guide recommended." DragonBlade said sternly. Thinker looked away, red-faced, knowing where this was going. "We both know that they aren't leveling up at peak efficiency. I know that the initiative was taken so that not everyone would rush to the front lines and get themselves killed. But now, more than ever, we need more players on the frontline."

"What would you have me do?" Thinker asked. DragonBlade laughed.

"You sounded so much like a friend of mine right there... Oh well, never mind. I 'would have you do' a full publishing of the secret training sites Kaihaku-san and his friends have been sending us so that they are available to all players. I also wish the extra skill Piety to be common knowledge along with Kaihaku's leveling guide for it. Basically publish the secret Frontliner Guide along with Argo's guide in the next edition." Thinker looked at the ground pensively and bit his lip, thinking of the repercussions such an action would have. _Heathcliff and Schmitt are going to kill me..._ Thinker thought, but DragonBlade's point made sense.

"Very well." Thinker said.

"Thank you. I'd hate to have only a few players with all the power." DragonBlade said.

.

**Sora's Story: **"Dealing with the past"

**June 31st, 2023. 7:06 PM.**

**Aincrad, Floor 36: plains outside Hayate City.**

Sora, once called Aoi Anosora, looked out from atop his lonesome tree, scanning the fields. The Fire Javelin grazed on the hellish floor's excuse for grass and moved on when it was finished. Sora tensed his hand around his bastard sword's hilt as it came closer and closer. Floor 36 was hell on earth, literally. It was composed of two general areas: heaven and hell. Heaven was where all the cities were and was populated by fairy and angel NPCs. Hell was the location of most of the mini-dungeons and where most of the quests led eventually. It only had one major city, Hayate City, and a few small, neutral villages whose alliance depended on the amount of players in it vs the amount of demons in it. Hell was populated by hellish fiends and their demon overlords.

Sora had had a fear of demons and the demonic ever since... ever since... it happened. Sora looked around nervously all of a sudden, expecting death from every corner. Sora shrugged off his fear and looked at the javelin again. The Fire Javelin looked like it was made out of fire except for the typical tusks javelins had along with a small pair of horns it had atop its head to theme it along with the fire to the hell area. Sora withdrew his shuang go, Fate's Kiss, and readied himself. He hooked his feet on one split of the Y-shaped branch while the back of his knee rested on the other split. He had remained curled the whole time so that the javelin wouldn't see him. Once it was under him, Sora slowly uncurled himself and lowered his sword, making sure it didn't see him.

The Fire Javelin grunted contently as it chowed down on the fire crystals, mentioned previously as the world's excuse for grass. They crunched and crackled under your feet, making hunting impossible unless you bought special shoes from the shop. Sora had found a way around that, hanging on the sparse trees. The trick was not getting spotted before it was under you, but the hiding skill helped with that. The sword was almost at its neck now, and Sora would be able to land a critical hit at the jugular. The hook of the sword was under the curve of its neck, and Sora tensed himself, then pulled. The javelin squealed and tried to run, but the hook had it. Sora watched its HP bar get redder and redder, imagining its life blood leaking out with it. Sora smiled at the thought as the javelin squealed and struggled uselessly against his strong grip.

"A Fire Javelin's tusk!" The player shopkeeper exclaimed. It was a profitable item, useful to the Medicine Mixing skill. Bartering with an NPC was useless if you didn't have the Barter skill, but you didn't need that with a player shopkeeper. If you could convince them that they could sell it higher than what you were selling it to them for. The player was biting the hook right now.

"You know how hard it is to nail one." Sora said. "You might never see one again. Think of how much you could sell this for! It could pay for hundreds of other items." The player looked at it, then at Sora.

"1000 col." The player said.

"1500 col." Sora said.

"1200 col." The player said.

"Maybe I could get a better deal from an NPC. My Barter skill might be high enough." Sora said. "I regret the fact no one trusts me when I try to help players."

"Fine... 1400 col." Sora hid his surprise and accepted, actually having been shooting for 1300 col. Sora walked out of the store, quite content with his catch. _And I can get plenty more of those_... he had a theory that players in the lower levels of Aincrad would pay more for them than players on this floor.

The next day, early in the morning, Sora headed out into the fields. Fire Javelins had been getting rarer and rarer, so you had to go further and further from Hayate to get any. Sora looked out from behind the tree, eyeing the next one. You had to be careful this far away from the city. The Angel Guard NPCs didn't patrol this far, and the mobs got more and more dangerous as you went into Hell. Sora suddenly spotted another Fire Javelin, deciding to move in since the sky was clear. Sora kept a wide distance between himself and the boar, ensuring it wouldn't hear the crunching. He used the hook sword to get a grip on one of the far branches of the tree and pulled himself up into it. In real life, even before his body had started wasting away because of its SAO-induced coma, he was a skinny young boy.

In Sword Art Online, however, his STR parameters made him a lot stronger than most people in the real world. He pulled himself up with ease, not even feeling a burn or any strain put on his virtual muscles. The funny thing was that the game didn't modify your body composition as your STR, AGI, and STA parameters went up. He had seen players wider than they were tall perform amazing free-running feats and face down massive monsters. It was rather entertaining to watch. Sora slowly made his way up the tree branch, eyeing the Fire Javelin expectantly. A sudden, earth-splitting roar resounded in Sora's ears.

"Who dares bother my flock?!" A Hellfield Cyclops bellowed. Sora turned in fear and saw the massive behemoth charging towards his tree. It appeared a mound of molten rock on legs, four sturdy and thick arms sprouting from its sides. It spewed magma from craters located on its shoulders and back. Its single eye burned with a malevolence rarely seen in the real or virtual worlds. Sora yelped and almost fell out of the tree, quickly catching himself and clambering up the trunk, successfully placing himself above the cyclops's reach.

"Come down from there, you knave!" The cyclops exclaimed, but Sora moaned in dismay at the sight of the other mob the ruckus had attracted. A Pyreheart Demon slowly floated down from sky, supported entirely by dark magics as it had not wings, its eyes anxious to consume the cyclops' and its prey's souls. The cyclops, however, was entirely unaware of this new arrival and continued banging on the tree, nearly upsetting Sora's balance. The cyclops gave a sudden yelp as the Pyreheart Demon impaled it with its flaming scythe and flung it far away from the tree.

"Well hello, there." The demon said, looking at Sora. It reminded Sora of a biker and a death metal rocker mixed together, sort of, with its black, spiked clothing and chains all over. It's head and skin were on fire along with its scythe, and the trophies of thousands of demon-rampages. Sora looked at its skin, bloody and grimy from its grisly work in the pits of hell. This was the worst luck conceivable for Sora. Entire groups of players had to get together to hunt it down, and Sora was alone, not to mention his guildmate was probably still sleeping right now and everyone else on his friend list wasn't on this floor. Sora looked at the demon, and death stared back.

Sora was paralyzed with fear. That fear that he had of demons and devils and such originated from a certain incident in his childhood. See, his father was an alcoholic ever since Sora could remember, but it had gotten worse and worse after Sora turned five. At that point, his father had begun to take out his frustrations out on Sora with frequent and often merciless beatings. He had also taken to raping his mother practically everywhere, even when Sora was there. While this shocked and affected Sora deeply, the part that had been the most traumatic of it all was... well, the _fiend_.

The Fiend, as Sora referred to it, was some sort of demon, clad in black with ashen skin, its pale blue lips contorted in a smile at the sight of the impact he had on the Aoi family. Sora grew up in fear of this being, especially when it grinned at him and said that one phrase: "One day, I'll come back for you." Sora had finally taken action at the age of fourteen, filming one of the incidents in secret and taking it to the police. The police had immediately arrested Sora's father, and the fiend had gone with him. But it had said goodbye to Sora: "Farewell, love, I'll be back for you, and your wife and your child as well."

Sora had only stood frozen, and since then had been on the run from the Fiend. Video games had been his solace, a world in which he could become powerful and respected, where the fiend couldn't reach him. That's how he'd gotten into Sword Art Online, but he had never found solace. There were always demons of some sort in video games. He had taken on the quest Death's Handyman to beat his fears, but he had barely survived because of Tix and DragonBlade, his fear getting the better of him when the mini-boss showed up. He had thought this floor would help him beat his fear as well, but it had proven otherwise, and now his fear had him.

"You should make for quite a treat." The demon said, reaching for Sora. Sora instinctively slashed at him, the system triggering the movement more than him executing it. THe demon withdrew his hand, only to suddenly clutch Sora from behind with his other. Sora watched in disgust as the detached hand was pulled back by assorted tendons, veins, and other such viscera to the point where it should be attached.

"Let me go!" Sora exclaimed, squirming in the demon's grip, the sudden contact snapping him back into reality. The demon suddenly complied with a yelp as a player suddenly stuck a One-Handed Longsword through the demon's thigh.

"Run!" The player said, yanking the sword out and taking off after Sora. The player had faded cream color armor on with a dull gold trim and detail. Dark blue robes flowed out from in between the armor plates, decorated with an equally dull gold and decorated with a golden Crusader's Cross here and there. The chestplate had a handsome, albeit genderless, face surrounded by a flowing dull gold mane as decor right in the middle. Intricate vambraces patterned in a similar fashion to the chestplate protected his forearms along with two shin-plates with huge kneeplates similarly decorated. Each shoulder had a massive shoulderplate with a dull gold Crusader's Cross etched into it. His sword had an angel with spread wings as its grip, the wings serving as a handguard, and the shield was an angel as well. Two angel wings that appeared to be made out of blue energy had appeared on his back, propelling him, but not lifting him, so that he could keep a more or less even pace with Sora. It was clear he was a high-level quest clearing player, the armor evidently a reward for one of the higher Angel arc quests.

Both players were streaks of their respective color, attempting to cross the Hell-Heaven border as fast as possible. The Pyreheart Demon was getting close, however, and Sora could feel another anxiety attack coming on. The player suddenly whipped his right arm around, and what had appeared to be an intricate pattern of needle-like gold trim on his vambrace flew at the Pyreheart Demon, all of the shards impaling themselves into its chest and paralyzing it since it was a paralysis attributed metal.

This action bought them precious time of respite, allowing them to increase the distance between themselves and the demon. Everything was fine now, the race was nearing its finale. Then they heard the cackling.

"Reiver Demons! Incoming!" The player exclaimed. "Right! Go right!" The player said, orienting Sora towards a rock formation. The Reiver Demons suddenly snapped up their bows and fired a quick barrage of arrows, about to hit the player. Sora pulled him back before he could go any further and the arrows barely missed the both of them.

"_Izquierda! Izquierda!_" The player suddenly exclaimed, throwing Sora off balance mentally. Then it snapped. The player was speaking Spanish. _Izquierda_ was... was... _Left!_ Sora remembered. _The AIs must be able to detect Japanese. They don't know Spanish, so they can't predict our next move!_ Sora thought triumphantly. Both players headed to a tree that was to the left of them, Sora hiding behind the thick trunk and the player using the trunk to half cover himself and his tower shield to cover his other half.

"_Separarnos. Izquierda-_" The player said, pointing at Sora. "_Der_e_cha_." The player said, pointing at himself. Sora didn't understand the first word, but it must have been something about splitting up. Sora nodded and dashed to the left, then cut sharply to the right to make it to the rock formation. He suddenly dropped to his knees and slid the last three yards into the rock formation, a barrage of arrows soaring over him. He squirmed through a crack and then he was in a sort of cave formed by one chunk of the rock and an overhang in the other chunk. The crack was the only way in. Sora counted to five, then decided something was wrong. Sora quickly sent off a message to Trona with the number 4 and then squirmed back out.

"Help!" The player called out, blocking the assorted blows from the demon's flaming scythe. His defense, as incredible as it was, could only block so many of the blows, even with his tower shield. And if the player tried to perform the required switch from offense to defense, he would probably be impaled on the scythe. The player's high armor rating and well performed defense were probably the only things keeping him alive. Sora was about to rush in when his fear overcame him again.

Sora froze completely, watching the Reiver Devils come closer and closer. They cackled and laughed, just as the Fiend had. They even resembled it, the same pale, ashen skin and tight black clothes. They had shards of black crystals sticking out randomly from around their whole body, and feathery black wings sprouted from behind their backs. Sora couldn't even scream in fear. _He's back! _He thought, _he is coming back for me!_ Sora watched speechless as the lead Reiver Devil came up and stuck its huge stone sword through his stomach. He sort of just watched expressionlessly as the dark blue and black mineral went through him, joined by two more that were exact copies. Sora stood there, the three devils with their swords through him for what seemed an eternity.

"Sora!" A woman's desperate cry resounded in his ears. Trona rushed in, hurling a war spear at the closest devil, running it through its head. The sudden burst of blue moxes as it died caused Sora's fear to snap. _These can be killed_ Sora thought, _b__ut the Fiend can't._ Sora swung his shuang gou and ripped a Reiver Devil's head off. Sora turned the final one into a pin cushion with her rapier. The final two Reiver Devils and the Pyreheart Demon turned to observe their new guest.

"Call the horde." The Pyreheart ordered the Reiver. The Reiver complied and sounded a horn, chilling Sora, Trona, and the player to the core. He took the chance to move over and set himself by Sora and Trona, raising his shield protectively and trying to cover all three of them as best as he could. Trona herded Sora behind the player since he was beginning to have another anxiety attack. Five more Reiver Devils arrived at the scene, making it a total of seven Reiver Devils and one Pyreheart Demon facing down the three luckless players.

"Where's an angel or the Valkyries when you need them?" Trona said, swearing under her breath. They were in Heaven territory, an angel should have shown up by now.

"'Scuse me, I b'lieve those are our friends." A voice suddenly said. Kaihaku and Simo stood there, having been drawn to the commotion on their way to the front lines.

"Hi, Trona." Simo said, waving her hand. Trona sort of waved back speechlessly, shocked at their sudden appearance. Kaihaku withdrew a throwing knife as the five reinforcements flew at him. He flicked the knife up and down, causing the Angelite Throwing Knife to split into five different one and threw them, hitting each Reiver Devil right between the eyes. Their health down went down a tenth, but the Reivers kept coming. Kaihaku withdrew two more throwing knives and split them into five again, getting ready to throw them once a Devil came close. Simo withdrew a spear and set her feet.

"Take care of the Pyreheart and the other two Reivers!" He called out to the other players.

"I'll take on the Pyreheart, each of you take on a Reiver." The player said, charging into the fray.

"Sora, hey, Sora. Sora! _Sora_!" Trona said, punctuating each word with a gradually harder tap on the side of his face. "Wake up, you gotta deal with a Reiver." Sora suddenly had to block a Reiver's blow and then another from its partner. "Sora, wake up!" Trona pleaded desperately, but he stood there frozen. Sora stared at the Reiver Devil, the Fiend smiling back. _It's back, it did come for me..._ Sora thought, terrified._  
_

"Sora!" Trona cried out, but Sora didn't answer.

"Sora, wake up!" The player said, grunting under the Pyreheart's scythe.

"SORA!" Kaihaku exclaimed finally, blocking two blows at once with his longsword. Sora suddenly thought not about the Fiend's threat, but rather what it had driven his father to do, to express, to _become_. Sora suddenly let out a rage filled scream, whipping out Fate and using the inside of the curve to decapitate a Reiver Devil.

"You will not possess me!" Sora screamed at the flying head. The head and the body burst into blue moxes, and he kicked Trona's Reiver Devil using the Martial Arts skill.

"You will not possess her!" He roared at the fading blue moxes, moving on to the other set of Reiver Devils. Kaihaku's one-handed longsword, Fragarach, was highly effective against the Reiver Devils, its ability allowing it to ignore up to 50% of an opponent's AP, but he was still hemmed in and being overpowered, not even his Piety skill blocking 70% of damage (probably more than Sora's armor would block) was keeping his HP out of the red zone. Sora charged in and rammed his fist right through one of the Reiver Devil's chest, quickly following with a heavy blow from Fate, killing it.

"You will not possess him!" He roared, swinging around and decapitating another Devil at the same time Kaihaku ran Fragarach through the last one.

"YOU WILL NOT POSSESS ANY OF US!" Sora roared finally, jumping up and raking his sword's hook down the Pyreheart's spine, killing it. When it was all over, Sora looked around and saw no Fiend. He was simply not there anymore. Sora looked over at Hell from across the border, at the winged demons patrolling the sky, silhouetted against the light grey clouds of ash. But he was no longer afraid, they could die. Anything could die. Sora had finally beaten the Fiend.

.

**Michael's Story: **"PK-hunter"

**4th ****August****, 2023. 5:00 PM.**

**Floor 1: Monument of Life.**

Booth sat cross legged in front of a list of players, most of them starting with the letter K. He'd stopped going to churches as much and was now mostly pondering on how to pass the game as fast as possible. He couldn't solo bosses, as much of an advantage Piety gave him he still couldn't hit for much. Booth brought up his skill list, then sighed. He'd finally made it to the point where his piety skill blocked 76% of damage, about as much as most other people's AP did, and cancelled out poison, tumble, and stun effects so far.

His other skills had lagged behind, however, Booth concentrating on mastering Piety as fast as possible. He could just continue with the same method Heathcliff-san had proposed: Frontliners fighting and everyone else on support. A small but increasing group of players were favoring human lives over col, so equipment and supplies were more likely to be given out for free now. Two names, Kichiku and Kota were suddenly crossed out right in front of him. Booth sighed as he turned around and saw that a few more names had been crossed out at the same time. They all read _Death by Combat Damage, Player originated, 5:03 PM, August the 4th, 2013._

_"_A shame, isn't it?" Kori to Hono asked behind him.

"I wouldn't describe it as shame. It's more of a horrible and shameless loss." Booth said, turning around to look at Kori.

"I think we both agree someone should do something about it." Kori said. He had exchanged his overall white look with a more dark blueish look, fitting the historical French musketeers.

"We could." Booth said, scratching his chin. Off to his far right, in the _I_ section, another name was crossed out. _Death by Combat Damage, Player originated, 5:06 PM, August the 4th, 2013._

"But where to begin?" Kori asked as Booth got up and turned to look at him. Booth had changed his appearance significantly since the fight with the hellish fiends to save Sora, Trona, and that other player. He'd changed his hair back to the messier version as it had been before and had shaved his thin beard. He had discovered that the system allowed for two swords to be placed in their holsters/be materialized on his person, but that it was simply impossible to wield both at the same time, much to his disappointment. He could still have both Fragarach and Kusanagi in their holsters, just not have them in his hands. He had his old grey cloak on with nothing else under it, so his chest and abdomen were bare. The two holster straps crossed in an X over his chest, the cross from the blood red rosary almost over the center of the junction. He still had the grey starter pants on along with a belt tied with a double loop knot over the buckle.

"Where to begin indeed..." Kori said pensively. "You wouldn't happen to know anyone with an orange cursor?"

"Nah, I have suspicions of a 'marker' though."

"Whom?" Kori asked, crouching down at Booth's level. He had a sort of gleam in his eye.

"A player, Niramabuto. Sora and I met him a while back. Remember when I took Sora to solo his first demon-class enemy?"

"Yeah, after the Pyreheart incident." Kori said.

"This guy, goes by Nira, tagged along with us. Sora did something similar as the last time, the whole rage making him react faster, almost will the system into putting in that little extra damage. Point is, this guy, he's looking at Sora with this messed up look. It might have been the shadow cast by his hair, but this guy looked, and the swearing is for emphasis, fucked up in the head." It pained Booth to swear, but swear words had a greater weight than most words.

"Hmm. What makes you think he's a 'marker'? Sora is sort of young, he might be, though I would hate this possibility, a pedophile or something."

"It's the way he looks at Sora though, it's power hungry more than anything. There's something about Sora's avatar or weapon or something that allows him to move faster and deal more damage, might be a glitch." Booth scratched his chin instinctively, not finding the beard anymore. He took out a mango from his pocket and bit into it, peel and all, enjoying the juicy sensation in his mouth. "He wants Sora's power... or allegiance."

.

Michael looked down at Kaihaku, sort of weirded out by him. He had an uncanny sense of perception, and he tried every possibility before settling on the most likely one or ones. He still had a creepy, aloof feeling about him, but it might just be his way of eating the mango.

"Assuming this is true," Michael began, "what do we do about it?" Michael watched as Booth bit into the mango and as some of the juice leaked down his chin.

"Follow Nira. Find out his motives." Kaihaku said. "You're an American, yes? 'Course you are, you're Donovan's brother. Listen, as much of an allegiance you and Don owe to Japan, I couldn't care less about patriotism. My real name is Booth, I dislike going by Kaihaku. What's your name?"

"Michael. Is that a rosary?" Michael asked, pointing at Booth's rosary.

"'Tis. Gonna hate on my religion?" Booth asked, raising one eyebrow and flattening the other one. Booth might not have been handsome by most people's definition, but his eyebrows were just gorgeous. Micheal thumbed out his own Rosary, a deep blue one. "We are more and more similar as we go on... I grew up in LA."

"We go back to the US and live with our aunt in 'Frisco." Michael said. "Investigate about this Nira guy, I have a rogue guild to take care of."

**5th of August, 2023. 3:00 AM.**

**Floor 40: Kinzoku Kusa, near the Archon's town.  
**

Floor 40 was, in Michael's opinion, the most desolate, lifeless thing in the game, even more so than the Hell area on floor 36. Everything was metal, nothing was alive. Michael had sort of gotten a sense of the floor when he saw Chalyps, Donovan's Beryl Hog. The Beryl Hog was a purchasable pet, but taming it and keeping it happy to ensure it wouldn't run away was such a hassle only elite Beast Tamers could pull the feat off, and it was too expensive considering the amount of tries/Beryl Hogs it might take to get a loyal one tamed.

As was mentioned, everything was metal, sort of like cyborg looking things. But the patterns were generally circular or curvy, too natural to seem created by humans. It was thus assumed that the world had always been metal, and most of the errata and cannon surrounding it appeared to indicate this as well. Michael inhaled the night air, the scent of rust and polish heavy in it, and stretched. Down below, a group of players had set up shop for the night. They weren't just any players, however. These were PKers, the lowest of the low. They killed other players for the XP and items, doing no work themselves to clear the game but rather delaying the progress. Michael predicted that in three years, the amount of players would have reached 30% of the original quantity, then reduce drastically as 50% of those would be PKers. Then they would fight themselves to the death, and Michael didn't want that to happen.

"Ready, Tabs?" Michael asked Tabor. He nodded, donning the black face mask, then putting the black hood on. Michael, Tabor, and occasionally Donovan would participate in raids against PKing guilds. They had tracked this one, the Fives of Spades, down to this floor. They camped out in one of the more offbeat paths where nothing important was located, just a dip and a cave that were part of the scenery. The rule during these raids were black clothing, never referring to each other by their player name, and no distinctive moves or weaponry.

"Ready, Don?" Michael asked Donovan. Donovan nodded, then turned and motioned their back up forward but down: Lee and Emma. They all had black cloaks on with black hoods and black face masks. Their clothing and armor was customized to be black. All three used One-Handed Longswords, the only non-black items they had. All three were Angelic in composition, all three upgraded to at least +25 by Eri and Booth so that it would balance out the three player's relatively low One-Handed Longsword skill. "Move out." Michael whispered softly, all three players silently scaling the cliff behind the lone watcher. The woman was doing a sloppy job, evidently falling asleep as the threesome finally made it down without making a sound.

Donovan withdrew a Paralysis knife and stuck it in the player's back. She slid over without the most minor of sounds as Tabor cupped his hand over her mouth as well. Once she was bound and gagged, the silent three players repeated the strategy with three other players before one woke up.

"PKers!" A man screamed, getting up and drawing his spear. They evidently slept in full equipment just in case this sort of thing happened. The other remaining five players woke up and withdrew their respective weapons. The PKers totaled ten in number, four of them bound and gagged though, and the PK-hunters totaled five should things get nasty.

A fat boy with a mace charged at Tabor, only to receive a paralysis knife from Donovan. Two relatively intelligent members of the guild realized Donovan was the only one with paralysis knives because he was the only one with the Throwing Knife skill, so they immediately targeted him. Donovan occupied himself with those two while Tabor sparred with another longsword user and Michael settled on the remaining rapier user.

"Your technique is awful, man." Michael remarked as the player executed several flourishes that normally would have been a good idea but he stringed them together inefficiently, not to mention Michael was a master rapier user and predicted every single combo. Donovan paralyzed one of his assailants and round-housed the other into a rock. Tabor kicked his assailant in the groin and barred him against the wall with the edge of his sword to the man's neck as Michael pierced his attacker's stomach and tackled him to the ground. Michael bound and gagged his foe and then proceeded to bind and gag Tabor's, then both of Donovan's.

"Nice work, guys." Emma said as she came down the cliff. Lee stayed out of sight unless the situation was truly dire.

"Indeed, nice work, 'guys.' Or should I say NickFrost, Shadusuneku, and Kori to Hono?" A new voice asked. All three players turned and looked at the new arrival. Or rather arrivals. Four new men stood at the beginning of the path, all of them clad in dark clothing with hoods. The hood on one was complete, the other three wore masks. The apparent leader held a large cleaver in his hands.

"How did you know our names?" Tabor demanded.

"You just told me." The leader said. The man next to him snickered and toyed with a dagger in his hands. Tabor's cheeks felt red-hot under the mask, and he was certain his skin matched the tone. "How hard would it be to guess, especially with a player the size of NickFrost running around with you. Besides, very few players have such a marked and toned body as Shadusuneku." The leader said with a snicker. "Xaxa, Johnny, show our guests how its done." The leader said, his tone changing significantly, more of a harsh order than the cordial tone he had had up to this point.

The two players, the hooded one with a dagger and the other one with a blood red Estoc, charged at the group. Donovan and Tabor braced themselves, but Michael moved over to protect Emma, placing him behind the two players. Donovan and Tabor saw no need to conceal their identities any more, so they had switched to their usual equipment. Johnny charged up to Donovan, only to get swatted to the side with Jinsei Shi, Donovan's Two-Handed Greatsword. It was a two-pronged greatsword, composed aesthetically of two katanas, one pitch black, the other ivory white, named Shi and Jinsei, respectively. Since Johnny Black was swatted aside with Jinsei, "life," Donovan's health was restored by 100 HP. XaXa, who had not expected Donovan's quick move, fell prey to Shi, "death," and had ten poison counters added to him along with the usual damage.

"Your henchmen are not as good as you thought they were. Why don't you come down here?" Donovan taunted the leader.

"Fool. That was a ruse." The leader said. Donovan quickly whipped around, barely swatting a poison dagger away from his face. Johnny Black was probably smiling under his hood. A blood-red Estoc still plunged into Donovan's side, knocking his health down a fifth and launching him to the side of the battlefield.

"Stop!" Tabor roared, causing all the players to look at him. PKers were more adept at fighting players than Michael's group. Even with their higher stats, the outcome was uncertain. "We don't need this bloodshed. I challenge you, whoever you are, to a duel until the red zone. If I win, you and your men must retreat. If you win, we continue fighting until either side gives up... or dies."

"Very well, I accept your challenge." The leader said, sending Tabor a duel request.

"Your name is PoH?!" Tabor exclaimed in surprise.

"One and the same." PoH said. He was the player with the highest PKings reported. "I'm afraid you've been messing with my guild recruiting, capturing all the good PKers and what not. Oh well... Time to end this." Tabor accepted the duel request and readied his tower shield. The counter went down and down as Michael, Donovan, and Emma watched in horror. The counter hit zero and PoH launched himself forward with frightening speed. Tabor managed to block two of PoH's brutal attacks, then responded with one of his own. PoH took a small scratch on his cheek, then swung his butcher knife, nearly nicking Tabor's head off. Tabor dodged with surprising agility, however, and swung his lance/sword mix, slashing PoH across the back. PoH grunted in frustration and threw three knives at Tabor.

Tabor agilely blocked all three and kicked up some dust. PoH coughed in fits for a few seconds and thus was unprepared for Tabor's lance going through his rib cage. PoH stared in astonishment at the blade, then swung Mate Chopper into Tabor's face. Tabor took the blow full on, then slung PoH off the lance and dropped his heavy shield on top of the player. PoH struggled to lift the shield up, giving Tabor a chance to impale him multiple times with the lance. PoH's health reached the red after the fourth blow, however, and Tabor immediately removed his shield.

"Well fought, NickFrost." PoH said bitterly as he got up. "I believe you are the first person to defeat me in a duel. Congratulations." PoH looked at his data, watching the duel loss be crunched into the numbers, all the while having a sour expression on his face. "Very well, I will not attack you or your traveling companions. Fear no attack from me as you go on your way." Tabor turned around to announce the good news. It was a grievous mistake.

XaXa's Estoc, Johnny Black's daggers, and the fifth player's longsword went through Tabor all at once, causing him to gasp in surprise. Two more sword joined them shortly after as ten more hooded and cloaked men arrived on the scene.

"Tabor!" Donovan managed to say, rushing over to help his friend. One of the hooded men kicked him in the gut, hard, however, so he flew back into a catatonic Michael and a shocked Emma.

"I never said not to fear an attack from them, to be honest." PoH said. "Good work, gents. _I lost on purpose, fool_." Tabor burst into blue moxes, followed by Michael's cry of astonishment and Emma's wail. "Deal with the other three as you wish." PoH said as he walked away. Five of the player's eyes turned, full of hunger, to Emma. All thirteen players rushed in, keeping Michael and Donovan at bay while they stole her away. They forced her to remove her equipment and clothing by grasping her hands and physically forcing her to press the appropriate buttons. They raped her right then and there, in front of Donovan and Michael, both of them fighting desperately against their captor's hands to no avail.

"You bastards!" Donovan cried at them, only to be punched in the stomach. When one of Donovan's guards let go of him to go and have his turn, it was too much for Donovan. He suddenly burst forth, a flurry of Sword Skills. Red and yellow, blue and green, purple and orange, he flashed through the crowd of players. Michael watched in despair as the eleven closed in on him and several bursts of blue moxes exploded. Donovan was finally launched back into the rock wall and impaled with so many swords against it that he glowed orange. Michael was fastened to a tree, those who had had their turn with Emma began to practice throwing knives at him. Michael gave up on the will to live as a burst of blue moxes erupted from where Donovan once was, causing a burst of cheers to erupt from the nine remaining players.

Emma was lain at his feet, naked and orange all over with several daggers through her, once they were done with her.

"Oh boy, we have a Christian right here!" One of the players said, grasping Michael's rosary and ripping it off.

"Where's your Jesus now? Huh? Come on, cry out to him so He saves you and your friends!" Laughter erupted from the players at this utterance, only a tear emanating from Michael's eyes.

"What'sa matter, Satan got your tongue?" Another asked. Michael responded with the only phrase he could think of:

"Lord, to you I commend my soul." Michael repeated the last phrase his childhood Hero had said when He died, then bowed his head and was silent.

"Gee, I wonder where God is now? It's simple: He's abandoned you 'cause He just ain't real!" A final insult was hurled at him. Michael's bowed head allowed him to see Emma as she, in turn, burst into blue moxes. Michael remembered all the death that had occurred up to this point, then gave up as another burst of laughter followed.

**Booth's Story: **"Deathly Apparition"

**Floor 35: Mishe.**

**5th of August, 2023. 3:27 AM.**

"Eri, get my equipment!" Booth called out to Eri, quickly stuffing the breakfast roll he had been eating into his mouth and chewing rapidly. Eri rushed in with Fragarach and Kusanagi in their holsters while Booth put on his gray cloak over his bare torso.

"What's wrong?" Eri asked, worried. Booth grabbed a teleport crystal, one of the only three they had, and looked at her, their eyes meeting.

"Something awful just happened." Booth said. "Teleport: Archon's Town!" Eri hadn't believed it when Booth had taken a teleport crystal, each of them worth well over 10,000 col, but she had a feeling whatever just happened was bad. She quickly pulled up her friends list and checked the names. _Sora and Trona are out hunting, Michael and his team were going to hit a PK clan... Where's Tabor's name?!_ Eri supressed a gasp as the name NickFrost disappeared from her friends list.

**Floor 40: Near Archon's Town.**

**5th of August, 2023. 3:28 AM.**

Booth rushed out of the city in a mad dash. He never developed the Sprint skill, but that didn't mean he couldn't go fast. His Acrobatics and Freerunning skills aided him in his quest to get to his friends as fast as possible. A small notification appeared as Emma's name disappeared as well. _God, no!_ Booth thought, imploring his friend, but he didn't receive an answer as he sped up, his heart and lungs burning.

He slowed down as he reached the dip in terrain and the cliffs. Ho Lee laid by a log, paralyzed but all right. Booth threw a Paralysis-nullifying crystal at him, removing the status, and slowed as he reached the lip of the cliff. He watched as Michael was taunted by some players, a spear of pain piercing his heart judging by his face. Booth was suddenly caught off guard as he was tied down to a tree by a sudden burst of strong ropes. Booth looked around in panic for a mob or a player, but none were there to be seen.

A shadow in the shadows, invisible up to this point, stepped out. First came a boot, black as a starless night, then the rest of the apparently right leg. No, it wasn't a boot, more like a black sandal around a black leather "sock." The leather sock continued up until the knee, but the shin was protected by several studded leather straps. The top part of the, apparently, man's leg had baggy cargoes on, tapering off at the waist as a wide leather belt over a dark blue sash. On this belt, besides several pouches and two crystal holders, were four throwing knives and their holsters. Under the sash, a leather "plate" protected the wearer's abdomen. From under this leather protection, the distinctive split robes of a kimono covered his chest over a black starter shirt.

Two leather vambraces protected the man's forearms, covered in intricate patterns that reminded Booth of Viking's shields. They were both snakes. Some more leather plates covered the midway point between the end of the vambraces at the elbow and the end of the shoulder plates. The shoulder plates were matching, black metal that covered the shoulder efficiently and effectively. They were both decorated intricately with a golden trim. A leather plate in the shape of a fan covered the man's upper back, a dark gray shawl hanging to the man's lower back added to the effect of making the man's back appear bigger. Finally, a black hood covered the man's head and the top of the only non-dark-colored clothing item/armor the man was wearing: an ashen mask with red patterns on it that reminded Booth of tribal style flames except around the eyes, were they appeared to be three tears of blood streaming down from the eyes.

"Who are you?!" Booth asked, set off-kilter by the mask. The man merely turned and looked at him full on. His eyes reminded Booth of someone with cataracts, milky white all over but the white got more intense over where the pupil was. The man moved over to the cliff edge silently and Booth saw his equipment: A longsword that was shaped like an elongated rectangle with a spike at the end, sort of like a long butcher's knife with two six inch spikes at the top.

"Hey, who is that?!" One of the PKers asked, a note of fear in his voice.

"I. Am. Death." The man said, withdrawing the sword. It was pitch-black, like the man's equipment and Booth remembered where he had seen a similar sword: The Uruk-Hai in the Lord of the Rings.

"Death? Is that his player name?" Another asked.

"I don't know, but I don't like him!" Another offered, drawing his sword again at the new threat. Death merely started to walk down the cliff.

"Seriously, who are you?" A final player asked.

"A shadow. A shade. A merrow. A blade." The player answered cryptically. Shadows, shades, and merrows were all mythological creatures known for their habit of luring both men and women indiscriminately into their clutches, but that was when the legends diverged. Shadows consumed souls. Shades killed. Merrows seduced or trapped. The blade reference was unknown to Booth, probably relating to the Japanese version of a shade, meaning it had the swords of those it killed.

"Quit with the games! Who are you?" A player asked in a panic as the masked stranger got close.

"Death!" The apparition screamed, cutting the man's head off in a single blow with the sword. Both the head and the body disappeared into blue moxes, causing the other players to stare, gasp, or scream depending on their mettle. The apparition was lightning, hacking and slashing indiscriminately as it roared its way through the players. It mowed them down at a stunning speed, the players either too scared or too shocked to fight properly. When only one remained, a female macer, the player collapsed to her knees.

"Please, please. I don't player kill, I've never killed anyone." The player begged. "I ain't done nothing, please. I'll give you anything: col, armor, weapons, sex. No, don't kill me!" The player screamed. Death responded by taking his mask off. The player screamed again and again. "You're dead! You died! I saw you die!" Death bent down and stroked her face with the back of his hand, his face still hidden to Booth and Michael.

"Justice will be served." Death said, and cut the woman's bottom jaw off with one of his knives after sheathing the massive five foot sword. She screamed and she begged, but it was to no avail. Death then forced her to take out the mirror Kayaba Akihiko had given them and forced her to press 'Keep Scar.' Had Death not done that, the woman's jaw could have been restored by a healer or over time, but since it had entered 'Scar' status, the lack of a jaw would never disappear off this avatar, leaving her unable to speak. He then repeated the procedure with her hands so she couldn't write either.

Death stood up and put his mask back on, leaving the woman catatonic on the floor. Then, he just left, walking out of the cliffs. Booth had been struggling with the ropes this whole time when, suddenly, a throwing knife sailed out of nowhere and cleaved the ropes cleanly in half. Booth whipped out Kusanagi and used its special skill to send a blade of wind and quickly cut Michael loose.

"Where's everyone?" Booth asked.

"Dead." Michael answered. Sora and Trona, drawn by their friend's names disappearing off their list, arrived at the scene. Trona immediately collapsed to her knees and began to cry. Sora was shocked by the mutilated PK-er woman, unable to take his eyes off her stumps.

"Tabor, Emma, _and_ Donovan?!" Booth exclaimed.

"I saw all three die, it's hopeless." Michael remembered what it looked like when the radioactive burst of microwaves destroyed your brain, then imagined the faces of his brother and two friends, fried through.

"What happened? You four were some of the strongest players in the game?!" Booth was having trouble coping with the fact he had just lost three friends.

"The PKers we've been hunting, we never actually fought them. It was always really stealthy, and if we were caught we always had the overwhelming advantage of being prepared while they had just woken up. This time though, the PKers had the draw on us."

"They were waiting for you?" Booth asked, an uncharacteristic flow of emotions beginning to flood his brain and cloud his thoughts.

"These guys were trained to fight players, they had no set attack patterns, nothing we could use against them. It was like fighting in real life, something we've never actually done." Michael looked off into the distance, angry at himself. "They tricked Tabor, then killed him. Then they rushed Donovan and I and dragged out Emma. They swarmed Donovan and I and bound us, so we couldn't do much. Then they... they... Emma... Donovan went nuts over it and charged in. He nailed four of them, but then they stuck him into that rock with so many swords he was just this mass of orange and metal. They both died shortly after that, then that guy showed up."

"Death." Booth confirmed.

"Whoever he is, we owe him our lives." Michael's face then contorted in anger. "He's no better though. He killed all of them, no questions asked, no mercy given, no chances offered." Michael was really mad right now. "He didn't give them a chance to repent, he just slaughtered them." Michael nodded over to the female player. "What he did to her though... that was uncalled for."

**Floor 35: Mishe, Booth and Eri's house/shop.  
**

******5th of August, 2023. 7:45 AM**

"As you all know, we are here to discuss the recent tragedy." Booth began. "We are also here to discuss what should happen to the campaign Michael had been carrying out against PKers and the newest one that has appeared, a player going by the name 'Death.'" Booth let the words sink in. "We have recently suffered the loss of Donovan," Michael's face remained inscrutable, but his hands tensed as he gripped his knees harder. "Emma," Trona wasn't able to hold back her tears any more and Michael calmed his own grief by alleviating hers, placing his arm around her shoulders and calming her down with his words, "And NickFrost." Tix's face bore a little bit of anger, but nothing more at the mention of his friends death.

"All of them died fighting against an informal guild. While we were after the Fives of Spades, a group of players showed up. They had no guild insignia, but they behaved as such. We are referring to them as Group X at this point. What little we have been able to get out of Mororo, the female player that was left alive, indicates they have not formed a guild to stay under the radar but that the infamous PoH leaders them. Notable members we have been able to identify are Johnny Black and Red-eye XaXa."

"I say we call off this quest." Sora put in, interrupting Booth's pensive silence. "We already lost three friends that are dear to us."

"Would you allow them to remain at large? They kill players for fun." Michael observed.

"Both are equally valid points of view." Booth stated. "Since the group appears ready to input their opinions, then we will have a vote once everyone has heard all opinions and takes them into account. Dragon, do you want to start?"

"That would be fine." DragonBlade said. "As you know, both NickFrost and Donovan were dear friends to me. While their loss is terrible, those who gave up their lives along with Booth and Michael believed that the threat of PKers was too great to ignore. It is the strong ganging up on the weak, something I will not sit idly for. Regardless of the decision made here, I will continue to fight against this threat, whether it be by helping mid- and low-range players level up faster or by direct action."

"Well put." Booth said, Michael nodded. "Tix?"

"While I must admit that the well being of non-frontliners, and sometimes even those of frontliners, is often inconsequential to me, I do care about my friends. It's just the way I am." Tix looked down at the ground, sort of ashamed at his natural callousness, but willing to admit it nonetheless. "Both Michael-san and Donovan-sama, however, have gone out of their way to befriend me and make sure I fit in with the group. The achievements they accomplish only deepens my respect for them. Out of honor and a sense of loyalty to Donovan-sama, I will carry on his fight, regardless of whether or not he is fighting along with me."

"Callousness can be a positive trait sometimes, as can be a lack of emotions. Your opinions are just as valid as the rest of ours, regardless of motivation." Booth assured him. "Sora?"

"I don't know... We've lost three great friends and great warriors in a battle that shows us no fruits. When the tree is not producing fruit, is it not natural to prune it? There are others who can continue this fight, I would rather not get involved. PKing is, sadly, something that will always be there, and if we just keep throwing away lives to quell what cannot be quelled, what is the point?" Sora said, his eyes looking pleadingly at Booth.

"All points of view are welcome into consideration," Booth said, offering a neutral and objective point of view on Sora's opinion as he had on the other's, "Sora brings up a good point as well. Violence begets violence." While Booth was able to coldly remove himself and view Sora's point of view from an objective stance, others were not able to do so. Michael's glance at Sora was especially disapproving. "Trona?"

"Emma was very dear to me, as all of you know. Her loss leaves me hopeless. Donovan taught me many things as well, and helped me find at least one constant friend in this virtual world." Trona looked at her red hawk, perched on her shoulder, then suddenly at the ground, tears welling up in her eyes, "I do not want to lose any more friends to this monster of an enemy, but even if it is a losing fight it is a fight that strongly tempts me. I present my opinion as neutral, my grief rendering me unable to continue but my instinct urging me back on the battlefield as well." Trona looked up at Booth. "Would that be acceptable?"

"Neutrality is just as valid a stance as _yes_ or _no_." Booth said, casting his kind eyes at her. "We will not force you to fight if you do not wish to." Booth turned to the last person he wanted the opinion from. "Michael?"

"I do not wish to continue this fight out of revenge for my brother and my friend's deaths, I do not continue it out of a lust for blood, I unwillingly continue it because I am convicted that God has made the strong as they are to protect the weak. I will not stand idle while the strong abuse the weak." Michael looked at Booth with a fire in his eyes. "Any PKer who abuses and murders is no friend of mine, and while I will not kill them, they will not receive mercy from me either." Michael looked at Booth evenly.

"Wise words, my friend. I hold the same stance." Booth sat down. "Eri is an impartial judge, so I ask that everyone put their heads down. I will say 'to continue fighting' and I want everyone who wishes to do so to raise their hands. I will then say 'to remain idle' and everyone who wishes to do so should raise their hands. No one will look at anyone else while they are voting. If you wish to remain neutral, do not raise your hand at all."

"To continue fighting." Booth said, his head down. The rustling of cloth and armor filled the room as hands went up. Booth raised his hand as well. " To remain idle." Booth said, lowering his. A single rustle of cloth sounded. "The voting is over, put your hands down. You may now look up." Everyone looked up, disapproving glances cast at Sora. Booth cast his own admonishing glances in turn at those.

"The vote is five to continue fighting, one to remain idle." Eri announced.

"So be it. Anyone who does not wish to fight may also remain. We will now discuss the player who goes by Death." Booth said quietly. "Michael and I saw him along with Mororo. He stands at about 5'10"-ish and his armor and clothing makes him appear stocky and well built, which may or may not be the case, we cannot tell. Distinctive traits include a straight, rectangular sword about five feet long with twin six inch spikes at the top. It appears to be made out of the same material as most Demon-class weaponry along with an ashen mask with blood red patterns on it, including three tears of blood coming out from each eye." Eri was looking sort of nervous at the ground.

"Is something wrong, Eri?" Trona asked.

"It's that... I may have forged that sword and mask." Everyone turned in shock at her. "A player came into my shop with prime materials and several Blacksmithing-Boost potions. He remained masked the whole time, not the one Booth described but rather a dark blue dragon mask, and went by Ko. I have no idea who the player is even now, but I can tell you it is a formidable sword. Its damage is at 650, Durability at 1200, weight is at 200, and requires a one-handed straight sword level of 750 to equip. It boosts your STR by 75 and causes a bleeding effect of 5% of total health for three seconds per blow. It's name is Baionoido and yes, it's a Demon-class sword."

"What you did was your job, nothing more. You had no idea we might be facing this sword later, and you did your best not knowing this." Sora said, smiling to cheer her up. "We at least know what we are up against now."

"Indeed, this seems like a more and more formidable opponent at every instance. he appears to carry four throwing knives. These are probably his rapidly available ones and it should be safe to assume he carries more in his inventory and, like me, has advanced enough in the throwing knife skill were you can split the knives into five." Booth sighed, knowing how useful such a skill could be. "They appear to inflict paralysis and are also Demon-class in composition. We should not assume this is all the weaponry he is carrying. Do you remember the mask's effects?"

"He specifically asked me to focus on getting bonuses for the Hiding and Listening skill instead of making its AP high. He also brought in Speed-attributed materials to make it and AGI-attributed materials to upgrade it. It's called Le Masque de la Mort. It has an AP of 200, gives a bonus of +75 to Hiding, +57 to Listening, +10% movement speed, and +100 AGI. He also mentioned the possibility of making a paralysis nullifying charm, but he had run out of materials by then, though it's possible he either went to someone else to make it or purchased one as he seemed particularly inclined to obtain one."

"So he is a speedy longsword user who can probably paralyze us and deal more damage to us in a second than we could to him in a minute." DragonBlade sighed in frustration. "This is getting discouraging, can we talk about the group of players that showed up instead?"

"That was about all we knew about Death. I would like to detail his _modus operandi_ as well before we move on. He only eliminated players with orange player indicators and could apparently tell who was who even so as he revealed himself to and mutilated the female player but left Michael alone and merely tied me down. He doesn't spend much time on any one opponent, rather zooming through groups and dealing damage out indiscriminately among the group. I'd hate to see how he'd do against a single player though. Now, to Group X." Booth said.

"They appear to follow the player PoH and his two lieutenants: Johnny Black and Red-eye XaXa. They are loosely held together by the notion of enjoying a particularly brutal method of PKing in which they paralyze the victim and keep him paralyzed as they torture them to death, sometimes healing them to prolong the ordeal." Booth said, causing Trona to shiver. "They have no guild, thought it has been considered and most of the members were people who stood out among other PK guilds or the entire guild if they were all that good. We know they have approximately twenty-ish members at the moment, Death's first strike having left them without eight and Donovan having eliminated four of them. We currently have one member in our possession."

"I think we can take these guys on, now that we know their true colors." DragonBlade said, smashing a fist into his palm.

"We must still be very careful though." Michael observed.

"I still think this is a bad idea." Sora stated.

"Sora, we have already said that if you wish to remain out of this, you may simply remain out of this. Please refrain from expressing your opinion when we have already taken it into consideration and decided we would stick to our own." Booth said. Sora looked at him oddly, undecided about exactly what Booth was like. While he had proven to be a great friend at times, going so far so as to accompany Sora when he went to slay a demon as emergency back up, but now acting cold and distant.

"I'll take my leave then." Sora said, walking out the door. Booth sent a quick message to Eri, who looked at him puzzled but then complied. She went over to the door, stepped out, and shut it well.

"Now I must present a fourth and even sadder subject: Sora. While I hold nothing against him, I believe he has come under the influence of a possible member of Group X or another PK group. While I have not fully confirmed this fact, I will still act on it as I am 87% sure of it." Booth looked for a reaction among those gathered. Michael was sort of glad this had been brought up, already knowing about Niramabuto. DragonBlade and Tix looked at Booth surprised for a second, then decided to hear what he had to say. Trona was still sort of leery about it, Sora being a close friend.

"His opinion was odd to me considering Sora's nature. I believe he has come under the sway of this player unwittingly, the wool being pulled over his eyes. I may be wrong, I'm probably right though. Somehow, this player has managed to convince Sora to change his opinion over PKers. I have asked Eri to guard the door to ensure he doesn't eavesdrop and I waited until he willingly left, having already deduced he would do so from his opinion and personality."

"What should we do about it?" Tix asked.

"Firstly, we have to figure out exactly what poison this player has slipped into Sora's mind. Next, we have to figure out which guild this player belongs to or if he is a member of Group X. Finally, we have to reverse whatever brainwashing they've slipped into Sora's mind and take care of this player." Booth finished.

**Floor 35: Mishe, Booth and Eri's house/shop.  
**

******5th of August, 2023. 8:45 PM**

"Booth, something funny is happening." Eri said, knocking on Booth's bedroom door.

"What is it?" Booth asked, opening the door. He didn't have a shirt on, as usual, causing Eri to blush slightly.

"Well, see, Donovan died, right?" Eri asked.

"Michael saw him die."

"Well, his name is still on my friend list." Eri said, showing Booth.

"Huh... He's still on mine too. Wait, Emma's name is still on yours as well. It's probably a glitch or something, since Emma's isn't on mine." Booth said, reassuring Eri.

"Hmmm... might be worth looking into. He may have survived somehow..."

"I wish I could think that way, but all the facts point to his death..." Booth said, pain in his voice. "Go to sleep."

"Good night." Eri said, quickly pecking Booth on the cheek, causing him to blush.

"'Night." Booth said, sort of breathless as she walked into her own room. Booth took a while to sleep that night, Eri's unusual peck on the cheek and the possibility of Donovan surviving keeping him awake. He finally fell asleep after a while though, only to be awoken in the middle of the night. A white mask with blood red patterns looked at him, startling him. Death held his hand over his menu in the main menu category. _He's sleep-PKing me!_ Booth suddenly thought, withdrawing a dagger and kicking Death into his closet. Death whipped himself up quickly, however, knocking over a vase and waking up Eri.

"Booth? Are you all right?" Eri asked, walking into the room, only to let out a scream cut short by Death covering her mouth with his hand and putting the dagger at her throat. Booth kept his distance so Death wouldn't do anything rash, but he followed them as they went down the stairs and out the living room. Eri bit down on Death's hand, only to be surprised by Death's lack of reaction. She then sheepishly remembered that players didn't feel pain in SAO and it had probably not even damaged Death. Death quickly paralyzed her and burst out the door into the night.

"Are you hurt?" Booth asked, quickly removing the paralysis effect from Eri with a crystal.

"I'm fine, what about you?" Eri asked.

"A-OK. How did he get into the house?" Booth wondered out loud.

"We probably left the door ajar accidentally." Eri said. She was quite cloud-headed and probably would have committed that mistake.

"Try not to do that again." Booth said, his head feeling a bit woozy at how close he had been to death. Both players stood in the living room for a few awkward minutes, then Eri broke the silence.

"Would it be all right if I slept in your room tonight?" Eri asked, her eyes on every shadow.

"Sure, you take the bed and I'll take the floor." Booth said, both players retreating up the stairs cautiously. The door was well shut now and only a select few people (Booth's friend list) could come through it now, so the precautions they took were pointless. It still gave them an odd sense of comfort to have another person in the room.

In the morning, they reported the incident to the other players and reminded them to close their doors well. On the bright side, the glitch was corrected and Donovan wasn't on anyone's friend list anymore, helping people deal with his loss without something being constantly there to remind them.

**Trona/Emma's** **Story Part 2**: "Of Loss and Heartbreak"

**Floor 35: Mishe, Weathercock Tavern.**

**6th of August, 2023. 9:00 PM.**

Trona looked up at the ceiling of the inn, heartfelt tears welling up from her eyes. _Why? Why did you have to go with Donovan and Michael? Why did you have to embark on that stupid quest?_ Trona thought, saddened by Emma's death but angry at Emma as well. Who was supposed to hold her at night? To make her laugh in the day? Who was to be her companion?

She looked over at Fire, her red Death Hawk, an angry expression in her eyes.

"Stupid bird," She said, prompting it to turn and caw at her, "you can't love me. Any loyalty in you was programmed by the system." Fire cocked his head and cawed again, shuffling over and rubbing his head against her. He was awfully useful, having started a fire while she collapsed on the bed to keep her warm. She had to admit the AI on the tamed beasts was amazing. A knock suddenly sounded at the door.

"Trona?" Michael's voice asked. _Of all people..._

"Come in." Trona said. Michael opened the door slightly, then hesitated. Trona realized that he suddenly thought that she might have set a trap for him or something. _And of all times... _"I'm wearing a night gown, _idiot_." Trona said, all her anger at Emma now directed at Michael.

"My foot got caught in the rail." Michael said, hurt but cheerful. Trona's rented room was the first in the hallway, meaning it was the first next to the stairs, so Michael's foot had gotten caught in the rail for some reason. "Hey... How are you?"

"What's it look like, dipshit?" Trona bit back in anger.

"Horribly saddened, torn apart by loss." Michael said, sitting down cross-legged on the floor. "Don't be held down by loss. Open yourself up to the future."

"You just lost your brother..." Trona said coldly, wondering how Michael could remain so happy.

"I know I'll see him again some day." Michael said, smiling. "As much as it hurts now, this is only a temporary separation."

"Wouldn't Donovan go to Hell by your religious doctrine?" Trona asked. "He's had affairs with several female players, he's killed, he's stolen. He looks like a good person, but he isn't one..."

"Would you happen to be one of those female players?" Michael asked.

"Once... that was it..." Trona said, looking at the floor.

"He showed a remarkable change in this last month. He seemed to reconsider several points of view he had on a great many things in the month before his death." Michael said. "He really opened up his mind to me and my religion."

"Have you come to do the same?" Trona asked.

"I came to be there for a friend." Michael said simply.

"Didn't your God tell you to hate me?" Trona asked.

"While He doesn't approve of homosexuality, He doesn't hate anyone." Michael said, shrugging. "I hold the same point of view." The toothless smile he made along with his big, carefree doe eyes he and Donovan had from their mother made Trona smile in return and chuckle a little bit since it was so cute. "So you can laugh..." Michael said, his smile parting to show some teeth.

"So you don't hate me... I guess that's something." Trona said. "Who killed Emma, to be precise?" Trona asked, suddenly turning serious.

"That depends. You want me to say someone who is still alive, like Mororo, but you want it to have been Death." Michael said, turning serious as well. "Now, you just want the truth, even if it was someone who is dead now and therefore can't hold your hate."

"Who was it? Truly?" Trona asked, a hunger in her eyes that was all wrong. She had gotten of the bed and was looking into Michael's eyes intensely.

"She was run through with so many daggers it was impossible to know. The only thing I can say was that it was neither Death nor Mororo, Death having shown up after her death and Mororo's player indicator being green the whole way through the fight." Michael said. Trona's face was an inch from his, her heavy breath warming up his cheeks and nose. He couldn't tell what emotion or emotions caused it though.

"Was there anything in your power you could have done to prevent it?" Trona asked.

"Because I am alive and she is not, I will always think there was something I could have done at the moment. Ask Booth, he saw what position I was in, he'll be able to look at it and just see facts, not '_I-coulda_'s' and '_I-shoulda_'s.'" Michael said, looking off to one side.

"Could... could you smile? Like you did before?" Trona asked, a tear about to break. Michael looked at her in the eye, his brown eyes and hair framing his face while he smiled just right. He sort of leaned back, placing both his hands on the floor for support, prompting Trona to lean in as well. She had been squatting on the floor up to this point, but she rested her knees on the floor while her lips met Michael's. It was Michael's first, so he had absolutely no idea what do except for stroking Trona's hair with his hands. It was enough for Trona, however, as with the contact of lips she was pouring out her very soul to Michael.

Trona suddenly broke off and nestled her head between Michael's neck and shoulder, crying silently. Michael just ran his hand up and down her upper back as the silent sobs raked her body. Trona eventually just fell asleep in his arms, so Michael picked her up and laid her on the bed. After kissing her 'good night' on her forehead, he sat down cross-legged in front of the fire, stoking it with his rapier and throwing in sticks and a log every once in a while to entertain himself. When morning came, Trona woke up groggily, seeing Michael by the fire. He had faithfully kept it going all night, filling the room with its warmth.

"'Morning, sleepy head." Michael commented as she rubbed her eyes. She gave a stifled yawn and moved over to Michael. She sat by him in front of the fire, watching it burn. She leaned her head against his shoulder, then he leaned his against hers. They stayed like that for hours before she followed her instinct. She turned around and kissed him, noting he had learned fast from last night's. Michael seemed to accept it, so Trona moved her hand to his chest and started to move it down.

"Nope." Michael said, suddenly pulling out his rapier and pressing it against the space between the back of Trona's jaw and her neck. She took her hand away, puzzled by the move. _This is SAO, silly_ she thought, _you can't hurt me in my room_. Then she realized that if he had done that despite the crime system in SAO, it meant he had done it out of instinct and would have done the exact same thing in real life. She suddenly scooted back on all fours with wide eyes as she realized Michael would have threatened to slit her throat with a rapier in real life as well if she had made a move on him.

Michael laid the weapon at his feet, merely looking into the fire. Trona eventually went back and leaned her head against his shoulder, allowed him to lean his head against her head, and for it to remain there. Trona suddenly realized how little she knew about Michael if she had been surprised by his reaction. Michael's notification bar suddenly flashed. It was a message from Tix.

"Michael, we tracked Death down from a local's clue. He's on floor 35." Michael read out loud as he began to get up. "He is currently in Mishe, he outran us at the city gate twelve minutes ago. We haven't been able to find him. Could you help us?" Michael looked down at Trona. "Come on." Trona got up and immediately started to put on her equipment. The advantage in SAO was that you didn't have to get dressed, just equip stuff in the appropriate menu. Michael had moved over to the window to check outside and open it to get out faster. "They said he's in Mishe, meaning he's in-" Michael suddenly froze as he looked out the window. Right at his eye level, were Death's milky white eyes.

"What is it?!" Trona asked as Michael leaped back with a yelp. Trona fell silent as she realized Death was at the window. He had been _watching_ them. Trona roared as she withdrew her rapier, ripped the window open, and made a mad grab at Death. Death smoothly dodged her and waited for her at the lip of the roof. "Come back here, you bastard!" Trona screamed at him. Michael urged her out the window and followed her. Trona was puzzled at the fact Death hadn't moved. _Death is waiting for us..._ She realized, wondering if the player had done that on purpose.

**Death's** **Poem**: "Pick up Sticks"** and Story: **"Hunted"

**Floor 35: Mishe.**

**7th of August, 2023. 8:13 AM.**

Running, running, running.

Jump, fall, land. Pursuers! One, two. _Buckle your shoe._

Up and down, left and right.

I want to live 'til tonight.

He targets me with knives, he hits the hives.

Bees in the air, I hate them viciously.

Nonetheless, they make honey for me.

Pursuers! Three, four. _Out the door_.

Log, jump, run, free run.

I run as free as the wind, hon.

Open window, through the bell's row.

Out the church,

Spin and lurch.

The church has pretty bells. Pursuers! Five, six. _Pick up sticks._

Blacksmith shop, bang on steel.

I stole first, ha-ha! Steel, steal?

My joke's awful, my pursuers lawful.

Oh dear, hit the dirt!

Musketeer and the flirt!

The time was seven, now's eight. _Lay them straight._

Fields, dash. _Parkour, parkour_. fields of wheat, bucks of hay.

My thoughts make no sense today.

I like to rhyme, all the time.

A shadow, a shade, a merrow, a blade.

This is the name I've made.

I check the map, I'm on block nine, ten. _A big fat hen._

_Flash-BANG! Flash-BANG!_ I go, through the blocks I guess.

A maddening game of chess.

Drunken apes, swords on napes.

They've caught up to me, Ho!

Sorry, friends, the apes're gone, I must go.

I check my knives, I check my grapes, eleven, twelve. _Dig and delve._

Dig? I don't. Please do delve, kind sir.

Out the river, next to a fir.

There's also an oak, but it doesn't rhyme, bloke.

The score's 45-love, love.

Near the falls, I win, I'm like a dove.

How old is he? 13? 14? _Maid's a-courting._

Maid be courting a musketeer,

The young boy follows, he is near.

All five leap, land in a heap.

You are fast, I guess,

Still no match for my finesse.

He might be fifteen, sixteen. _Maid's a-kissing._

Kissing? Mouth-to-mouth.

Kiss of life, headin' south.

It ain't fair, to leave him there.

Dodging swords, waiting for one.

Hit me once, and I'm done.

One's seventeen, other eighteen. _Maid's a-waiting._

Desperate, she searches for his life,

Might be his wife.

I wait as well, hope he is well.

He gets up,

My time's up.

Running, running, at nineteen, twenty kph. _My belly's empty._

The musketeer is A-OK,

I might not live today.

Never mind, I ain't blind.

Over yonder hill, I see a chimney,

This rhyme is up, and it's off to home with me.

.

Death watched as Michael got up, Trona having expelled all the water from his lungs. It wouldn't have been fair to run off when he was on the ground, now, would it be? Death had still been dodging swords this whole time to remain in one place. The swords and scythe of Tix, Booth, Sora, and DragonBlade sailed and swung over and under him, forcing him to jump around and roll under them to remain unhurt. Seeing as Michael was now all right, Death took off into the trees again. All six pursuing players went after him, but Death arrived at his objective.

Players screamed in surprise as he burst into the camp. PoH and his followers tried to get ready as fast as they could, but Death was among them. Three bursts of blue moxes followed in Death's wake as he headed towards PoH. Michael and his troupe arrived on scene in full strength, as Death had wanted, and set off into capturing as many members of their so called "Group X." Death swung Baionoido at PoH, who blocked it with his own demonic weapon, Mate Chopper. The blades, brothers in material, clashed and made that awful noise two Demon-class weapons made when they clashed with each other.

"Death... you keep meddling in my plans." PoH remarked.

"It comes naturally." Death answered, swinging Baionoido again and nicking PoH's face. The hood, remained over it, however, so PoH remained unmasked. Neither player was worried about their player indicator, PoH not being a marker unlike other PK group leaders and Death already having an orange indicator. PoH's large dagger (more akin to a butcher knife aesthetically though) was aptly described as an extension of his arm. He swung it and used it like no other player ever would or could.

Death, however, was, after all, Death. He wasn't known by that name for nothing. Using one of the two spikes to hook one of Mate Chopper's holes and swing it into the tree next to PoH. PoH ducked under the next blow, but Death kicked him across the face and split a throwing knife into five, throwing them at were PoH was. _Was_. PoH had already swung to the side by the time Death had fully extended his arm and the knives impaled themselves on the ground.

"Nicely done, Death. We are too evenly matched. Johnny, XaXa," PoH said, motioning them over. "It's show time." Johnny withdrew his dagger while XaXa withdrew the Estoc. Death responded by placing Baionoido in his inventory and withdrawing his other sword. It had an odd double handguard, really a true handguard, then a secondary grip, and then a set of parrying hooks above the second grip that served as a handguard but also as a method of trapping your opponent's sword and their sharp, five-inch length meant that if Death was close enough to you, he could stab you with it even if you blocked the blow. What was truly odd about this sword was the blade's shape. It had a four-and-a-half foot blade, though it could have been five or five-and-a-half if you straightened it out. This was because the sword was what was mistakenly known as a _flamberge_ but was really a _Flammard_, meaning that its blade had an odd undulation to it.

"Interesting sword, my friend." XaXa said, raising his estoc. It had the double handguard as well, but not the parrying spikes. Johnny Black used Death's momentary distraction to charge in. Death blocked the dagger with his snake-engraved vambraces, actually two bucklers, by forming an X and kicked Johnny Black. The slash with the Flammard cut Johnny Black across the eyes, momentarily impairing his vision.

"Switch!" XaXa moved in to assist his partner, swinging the Estoc. The thing about Flammards was that not only did they look awfully cool, they had a tactical advantage as well: blocking with one sent an unpleasant vibration down your opponent's sword, loosening their grip on the hilt and damaging the sword as well.

"Damn!" XaXa exclaimed as his estoc flew out of his hands when Death blocked and then moved his sword in an arc, sending XaXa's sword into the ground.

"Switch!" Johnny Black slashed at Death with his poisoned dagger, but Death rolled under it, something difficult with his huge flammard. He still pulled it off, however, but received an unpleasant surprise: PoH's Mate Chopper right across the face. His Flammard was practically useless against such a weapon, so Death sheathed it and began dodging madly.

"What'sa matter? Scared of death?" PoH asked with a laugh.

"No, just scared of them." Death said, nodding towards the Valkyries. Death had planned it like this and everything had gone as expected. He was going to unwittingly draw the Valkyries to PoH's camp, where he would make them fight the PKers. Death, however, would take on the near impossible task of facing down PoH, Johnny Black, and Red-eye XaXa at the same time, betting his new and unusual weapon would give him an edge. Now, however, the Valkyries had tied up all the PKers except for those three.

"So, PoH, how's life?" Michael asked, furious.

"Pretty good, how about yours?" PoH asked. He had seen through Death's plan by now, and had one of his own.

"Just fine. Give up quietly and you wont suffer the chance of being killed."

"Don't you want Death as well?"

"You too, Death." Michael said, pointing at Death. Death's mask was as inscrutable as ever, but he was shocked underneath. "Don't look so surprised. You've killed players as well, your indicator is orange." Death suddenly turned and bolted, knowing PoH had the draw on him this time. PoH and his two companions fled as well.

"Take those three, I'll go after Death!" Booth yelled, dashing after the player. Michael, DragonBlade, and Tix went after PoH and his two lieutenants while Booth ran off after Death. They ran for what seemed hours but wasn't more than ten minutes.

"Stop!" Booth said, stopping as well. When Death saw Booth stop, he stopped as well, more curious than anything. "I know you and Michael don't agree about the methods, but you are after the same thing as we are, no?"

"You could say that." Death said.

"I don't agree with killing anyone either, it seems like lowering ourselves to their level. Both you and I know you're a better man than they are, right?" Death stood pensive for a little bit, but then a sudden message burst into Booth's notification window. Booth's eyes widened. "I gotta run! It would be great if you helped me!" Death and Booth took off back into the woods, to where Trona and Sora had stayed guarding the prisoners. Sora and Niramabuto stood in the clearing, Niramabuto holding a dagger against Trona's throat. He had exchanged his previous angelic armor for the uniform worn by most of Group X's members. Said members were being untied by Sora and running off while Niramabuto threatened the Valkyries with Trona.

"Let her go!" Tix said, perceiving Trona's imprisonment first.

"Wait, Sora?!" DragonBlade exclaimed. Sora continued his work silently.

"I'm afraid your friend has decided to join us." Niramabuto said, his voice bordering on lunacy.

"Sora, don't! This is below you! We both know this is under you!" Michael said.

"You've got it all wrong, Michael." Sora said, looking up from one of the member's bonds. "The PKers aren't the bad guys."

"Sora! If you die here, you die in real life as well." Michael pleaded. "If you kill someone here, you might as well have pulled the trigger against their head in real life."

"No, Michael. Kayaba Akihiko would have never done that." Sora said. "That would make him a mass murderer. When you die in here, you wake up in real life."

"Sora, I've seen it with my own eyes! Your head gets fried."

"No, Sora. He's lying." PoH said, stepping out of the shadows.

"I saw it with my own eyes! I came into the game after everyone else, I saw with my own eyes what happens." Sora hesitated slightly as Michael gave his reason.

"Says the guy who believes in the Guy in the Sky." PoH said, casting doubt on Michael.

"He's misguided, that's it." Niramabuto said. "Come on, Michael, admit you're wrong."

"You're lying, Michael. You want to keep the illusion of the Death Game. You saw how everyone was waking up, you saw how they were telling stories of this amazing world where you were playing 24/7 and never had to get off." Sora said, repeating what his mentors had fed him, utterly convinced by it. "You joined because you liked the appeal, because you wanted to play the game."

"Sora, then why not just commit suicide?" Michael asked, attacking the logic. "If you want out so badly, why not do that?"

"Because we have to free everyone else as well." Sora said. "If we quit, no one else will be able to."

"Then why not fight on the front lines? Clear the game faster. That way everyone has a fun time." Michael said.

"That's just dodging responsibility, Michael." PoH said, laying a hand on Sora's shoulder. Johnny Black and Red-eye XaXa continued to free prisoners. "We have families and jobs to get back to."

"Join us, guys. We can free everyone from this pain." Sora said, offering his hand.

"You're friends can't listen, Sora. Michael has hoodwinked them." PoH said. "Go with the rest, I wont force you to fight your friends." Sora cast one final, pain-filled look at his friends, begging them to see his truth, to join him. But no one there budged, everyone believed Michael. Once Sora was gone along with most of Group X, PoH and his two Lieutenants along with Niramabuto turned to look at Michael.

"Heartbreaking, isn't it?" PoH said.

"You don't believe in a word you just said, do you?" Michael asked, fury seething out of him.

"No. Your friend does, however. I don't need to justify myself. We will meet again, and then I will kill you." PoH turned around and left with his companions as quick as possible. Niramabuto still took Trona with him. "Wait. Before we go, unfriend both Trona and Sora, all of you." Michael stared him down evenly. "Do it or we kill her." Everyone except Death did, as he evidently didn't have any of them on his friend list. Trona and Sora's player signals disappeared off their maps and their names from the lists. PoH and the rest left, leaving Michael and his troupe standing there.

They all walked back to Mishe sullenly, when Michael suddenly realized something. Michael turned around and looked at Death, who comically performed an extreme shoulder shrug and jumped back, his hands going up to his mouth and simulating an exaggerated amount of surprise.

"Get him!" He exclaimed, realizing Death had been quietly walking along with them all along. Death was gone in a flash, however.

**Floor 43: Cassica City Outskirts. Lydia's house.  
**

**7th of August, 2023. 10:27 PM.**

Lydia was sharpening a sword when Death came through the door of their house.

"Hello, honey." Lydia said, momentarily pausing her work and moving over to greet Death. She lowered his hood, revealing Death's black hair and undid the red knot at the back of his head while Death hugged her. Lydia removed the mask and allowed Death to tenderly kiss her on the lips. Lydia originated from an unknown ethnic background, but her skin was brown and she had shoulder length wavy, silver hair. She was currently sixteen in the game, though it was going to be her birthday soon. "Did your plan work?"

"No, they turned on me as well." Death sat down sullenly on a chair and took off the shoulderplates, their removed weight causing him to sigh in contentment.

"Someone isn't too happy." Lydia observed.

"I misjudged the leader. I thought he would be glad I handed them PoH on a silver platter. Everything went wrong when they went after me and one of their players betrayed them." Death said, looking at her most recent piece of work. "Great sword." He commented, looking at the silvery-blue finish on it.

"I know a better one." Lydia said, sitting down on his lap, facing his face. Death kissed her again, this time softer and a bit shier, and stroked her hair.

"Might it be Baionoido?"

"No."

"Feuerschwert?" Death asked, referring to the Flammard.

"No, silly." Lydia said, laughing.

"Oh, that one." Death said.

"How did my sword do, by the way?"

"You have one?" Death asked, shocked.

"Feuerschwert." Lydia said, laughing again.

"It had the predicted effects." Death said. "Thank God you know so much about swords. I would have never thought of a Flammard. Probably no one else has."

"I know a way you can thank me."

"Oh really?" Death asked. Lydia kissed him, hard.

"Bedroom, now." She ordered, kissing him and biting his lip. Morning found them laying side by side, Death lovingly holding Lydia in his arms. Their fingers were intertwined, matching golden bands on the ring fingers of their left hands.

.

**Eri's Story: **"Love Amidst Death"

**Floor 35: Forest of Wandering.**

**24th ****December, 2023. 10:00 PM**

"This way!" Booth said, pointing on the map.

"Hurry up, guys! The DDA and Fuurinkazan are ahead of us!" Michael added. When they had heard about the revival item back in November, everyone's thoughts had immediately turned to their dead comrades. It had been a heated discussion about who they should revive, but the vote had fallen on whichever player got the item in the drops section could pick unless it was one of the three champions they had set aside: Michael for Donovan, Eri for Emma, and DragonBlade for Tabor.

"Left! Left!" Booth said. They were six seconds from the one minute square mark and only a foot or two from the border. Eri had her own opinions on what they should do with the crystal, mostly because of Booth's theory. Booth theorized that certain players were eligible for the crystal, explaining why people still truly died when they died in the game. If the crystal was used, all eligible players besides the one chosen would die. This meant that the possibility existed that if the item was never used until the end of the game, all those elligible players wouldn't die. This was based on the assumption, however, that the item could revive a player who had already died. Otherwise, some people would be very disappointed at its effects.

"Straight ahead!" Booth instructed once they had made it through the portal. Eri clutched her halberd as she dashed ahead with the rest of the group.

"STOP!" A male voice suddenly said.

"Death?!" Tix exclaimed.

"One and the same." Death said. Everyone was uneasy with one of the enemies of the group in front of them. "Don't throw your lives away! The revival item isn't what you think!"

"But everyone-" Michael started.

"A revival item is impossible. Anyone who dies is fried in the real world, no exceptions. Can a mass of pixels and some lines of code bring someone back from the dead? No!" Death said. "Either way, I know that three of your companions died: A brother, a lover, and a great friend. Even if one of them could be revived, whoever was would bring discord into the guild. The other two would feel as if their person deserved to come back to life and friendships will be broken."

"We must still try!" Michael said.

"And face down a boss? The only group of people even around your size who have accomplished that were some ALF troops. Just five of them cleared the boss. Still, only four walked out. What makes you any different? One of your members can't even fight. This is probably the first time she's even set foot in the Forest, or even this far away from a safe zone." Eri looked down, Death's words hurt like a thousand whips. "You will probably lose her, not to mention probably another of your members. There are also far too many unknowns in this situation."

"Would you have us just give up if we can bring back just one of our friends?" Michael barked. Death suddenly got a notification.

"That doesn't matter anymore. My informant in Fuurinkazan has reported that The Black Swordsman has soloed the boss."

"WHAT?!" Everyone asked in outrage and chorus.

"My goal here has been accomplished. Go and ask the Fuurinkazan themselves."

"You bastard!" Michael roared, causing Booth to, of course, wince. Michael charged in, rapier at the ready, with the intent to kill Death. Death smoothly withdrew Feuerschwert And knocked the Rapier to the side, headbutting Michael. All Eri saw was Michael collapse backwards, a paralysis knife in his gut. DragonBlade charged in, swinging his katana sideways. Tix went behind him, using the Scythe's unusual shape to strike from behind. Death saw the flaw in their strategy, however, and jumped up above both sideways swinging weapons. He kicked DragonBlade backwards, paralyzing him with a knife at the same time. DragonBlade fell on top of Tix, pinning him down since he was paralyzed. Death side lept off a tree at Booth, Feuerschwert perpendicular to the ground. But Booth withdrew Kurasanagi, swinging twice in an X.

The sword's hidden skill triggered, and a gust of wind caught Death mid air. It slowed him and would have blinded him if it hadn't been for the mask, but Death had planned on that. Feuerschwert, despite its long length, was a one-handed longsword and not a two handed sword because its blade wasn't long enough to qualify, so Death had a free hand. Five paralysis knives flew at Booth, who responded with five of his own. They both hit their objectives, but Death had a paralysis crystal at hand. Death stood up, completely calm, and looked at Eri. He was walking out of the clearing calmly when Eri did something unexpected.

She suddenly lunged at Death, forcing his hand upwards to his mask. Death tried to react, but Eri was too quick. She forced him to unequip it, so Death covered her mouth. Eri struggled against Death's grip, but it was unyielding. He had no mask and she had seen his face, so he had to get out of there fast, along with her. Booth watched in despair as Death took Eri with him. A Paralysis-nullifying crystal flew out of the bushes in their general direction and allowed Michael to nullify his paralysis status.

Michael quickly removed the knives from his companions and dashed off after Death and Eri. By the time he reached her, however, she was already bound and gagged to a tree.

"Eri! Are you all right?" Michael asked desperately. Eri tried to scream and point, causing Michael to turn right in time to take Death's kick right across the face. Death landed like a cat while Michael tumbled backwards. Death's quick and dexterous hands forced Michael to unfriend Eri, then bound and gagged him to a tree.

"I didn't want to do this." Death said. DragonBlade and Tix charged into the clearing, only to be paralyzed again by Death's unseen companion. Death walked over and forced them to unfriend Eri in turn. Booth wouldn't come, however.

"Stay. I am afraid I need you to do something for me." Death ordered curtly to his as of yet unseen companion. His companion strode out of the bushes. She was a young woman about Death's height with brown skin and silvery-blue wavy hair at about shoulder length. Death picked up Michael, the lightest of the group, and stuck a paralysis knife in him. Then he forced him to open up his menu's map, tracking Booth like that. A "friend" dot quickly made its way towards them, causing Death to drop Michael and bring Baionoido to bear. Booth sent five gusts of wind from five different directions at Death, disorienting him. Fragarach slashed Death across the back, cutting his health down to a tenth. The blow allowed Death to locate Booth, however, and he kicked Booth. Booth flew back into a tree, where Death paralyzed him.

"What have you done to Eri!?" Booth asked in a rage.

"I never intended to have to do this, but she saw my face." Booth suddenly remembered how Death had mutilated Mororo and was struck with fear that Eri would have to suffer the same fate. "If word got out of what I look like, the Valkyries, PoH's people, and several others will know and be able to find me." Death said. "Don't worry, no harm will come to her, you have my word." Booth still didn't look convinced, however. "Don't worry. I won't kill her or harm her, because I know that the pain it would cause you would be too much to bear." Death showed Booth his hand, a golden band decorated the ring finger. Death took Booth's hand and put them together, showing that Booth had a ring as well.

"When my identity is correctly deduced by you, I am unmasked by anyone, or the game is cleared, I will return her to you." Death said.

"You're on." Booth said, smiling. Death forced him to unfriend Eri, then turned around to his companion.

"Unfriend me." he ordered. She hesitated slightly, but complied. Death walked over to the bound and gagged Eri and hefted her over his shoulder. "Stand down and allow them to take you."

"As you wish." The young woman said, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"When I'm out of the clearing, untie and remove the paralysis from them. Booth, I trust you will take care of my wife as I will take care of yours. Should any harm come to her, twice as much will be done to Eri. Because we have shared inventory tabs with our spouses, Eri will still be able to craft weaponry and other equipment for you as Lydia will be able to do so for me. You can leave Voice Messages in your shared tab. I will listen to all of them before either of you so no hints are passed. I request Lydia be allowed to do the same."

"Granted." Booth said.

"I will take my leave." Death said, and he did. Lydia turned around, her black kimono flowing in the night's wind. She had an eerie... almost mystical look about her. She was walking over to Booth when a voice stopped her in her tracks.

"As usual, Death has allowed us to meet again." PoH said. He appeared to be alone, however.

"What do you want?" Lydia asked curtly and viciously. Booth was watching the whole exchange, fascinated.

"What I usually want: to have some fun. It _is_ showtime, after all."

"You just love saying that. Good thing Death just left, he'll be right back."

"I don't think so, XaXa and Johnny are seeing to that. He's also encumbered, as far as I can tell. Really, I just came here to see your reaction." PoH said. Booth was interested as well, judging from the odd way he leaned forward. "Oh, I just love it. You love him, so you want to dash off and rescue him, but that would leave me alone with the bound Valkyries. So you obey him, but that rush of adrenaline still flows in your veins." PoH laughed. It was an evil laughed, filled with joy at Lydia's pained expression. "Now, do you love Death more than the Valkyries? Or is it just a desire to follow his orders that keeps you here?"

.

**Floor 35: Forest of Wandering.**

**24th of December, 2023. 11:59 PM.**

"Uh, Death. I guess that's your name, right?" Death merely nodded at Eri's question. He still had her over his shoulders, so she more felt his nod than saw it. "We're being followed."

"I know." Death whispered. It was unsettling to be with him. His very mannerisms matched his name... and his mask.

"Shouldn't we do something about it?" Eri asked, watching XaXa's skull mask fade into the darkness, only to reappear a tad bit closer. Johnny Black's hood/mask appeared on the opposite side.

"Cerberus has it taken care of."

"Cerberus?"

"Watch this." Death said. He turned and looked at the two PKers who had been following them. "You guys are complete retards, aren't you?" Death asked.

"Says the one who is going through the Forest of Wandering encumbered with another player." XaXa commented. A growl suddenly started up behind them. Both players turned and nearly jumped out of their skins in fear. A massive Polar Bear-Mastiff stood there, growling.

"Lee?" Eri asked, hopeful. They hadn't seen any of Donovan's pets, unsure about exactly what their fate would be.

"Cerberus, please." Death said. Despite them being the same type of mob, Lee and Cerberus were a palette swap away. Lee had been coal black and had ice blue eyes, Cerberus had ashen white fur with intense, neon-bright dark orange eyes. "I suggest you go, both of you." Death said. He had gently deposited Eri at the bottom of a tree trunk, Baionoido in his hands now. "It's you two against Death itself and his massive dog, and we both know you don't do well against multiple opponents." XaXa and Johnny were infamous because Johnny would poison, then XaXa would kill with the Estoc, forming a lethal combo that was almost always fatal. Against Death, however, who appeared to have an endless supply of crystals to nullify assorted effects along with Cerberus's thick fur preventing him from being poisoned, half the combo was made useless. Should things get nasty, Death could always draw Feuerschwert and knock the Estoc out of XaXa's hands.

"Well, you've outsmarted us this time." Johnny said. XaXa retreated into the trees stealthily. "We'll be back, though. XaXa, PoH, and I should be more than enough to take down your wife." Johnny threatened, probably smiling under his mask.

"You would be surprised." Death said, probably smiling under his mask as well. Johnny followed after XaXa as well, leaving both players alone. Death surprised Eri by untying her suddenly.

"Get on Cerberus." Death said. When she sat on the saddle, he joined her and withdrew two teleport crystals. He used one, teleporting them randomly to one of the two hundred blocks that composed the Forest of Wandering, then used the other one, having the same effect. Death then proceeded to withdraw a map. "Well I'll be, we're right next to the exit. Hya!" Death said, prompting Cerberus to break into a run, taking them out of the Forest quickly.

**Floor 43: Cassica City Outskirts, Lydia's house.  
**

**25th of December, 2023. 7:00 AM.**

Eri wanted to cry, she missed Booth. She didn't feel safe when Death was around, ever. Booth still hadn't sent her any messages, and Cerberus was constantly prowling the house in case she tried to leave. He kept her bound on a chain stuck to the floor in a bare room in Lydia's house. There was just a bed and a table with some chairs. He was nice company, she had to admit. He cooked for her, provided her a hammer and materials to keep her entertained along with spending time just talking with her. He was very considerate as well. Still, his mask and mannerisms were unnerving, not to mention his true identity made her hold a sometimes unreasonable grudge against him. Death suddenly burst through the door, angry.

"Idiots!" He commented and started pacing back and forth. "I practically handed PoH to them, and instead they wait until XaXa and Johnny show up! They _almost_ loose Lydia and Tix nearly dies. Lydia practically saved their asses!" Death rambled on and on about Michael's leadership failure.

"You shouldn't be that hard on him." Eri said, sort of shrinking away from him. "He _is_-"

"Don't remind me." Death said. He sat down, knocked a mug off the table with his feet when he placed them there, and removed his mask, revealing his true identity to her again. His black locks fell over his face.

"I still can't believe it's you." Eri said, puffing her hair up. "Such a prominent and powerful player..." She was evidently mad at him for what he was doing. "The fact Lydia would even allow you to touch her every night. She does know, right?"

"So you and Booth are married?" Death asked.

"About two weeks ago." Eri said coldly.

"You kept it awfully secret."

"Same with you and Lydia."

"That was to protect her."

"Same goes for me." Eri said, a bit annoyed at having to state the obvious.

"Why don't you tell me your love story?" Death asked.

"For every question you ask, I get to ask one." Eri said.

"All right. When did you start having feelings for him?"

"Two years ago. Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you of all people doing this Death thing?" Eri asked, tears about to break. "What you did to Mororo, what you might do to me!"

"I have morals, don't worry. The reason behind it all is simple. When I found out what Kori to Hono, whom you know as Michael, was doing, I decided it was too slow. Capturing PKers isn't going to solve anything. When SAO is over, they will be let free into society, probably their actions will be blamed on the game and Kayaba Akihiko. We should take justice into our own hands while we can." Death said, withdrawing a bottle of wine and sipping on it. "Do you drink?"

"I try not to. Anything you do here in the game ends up affecting you in real life." Eri said the last sentence with clenched teeth, anger seething out of every pore of her body. "How did you meet Lydia?"

"I didn't ask a question."

"You asked if I drink."

"Very well, ask your question." Death said with a laugh.

"I already did. How did you meet Lydia?"

"I was at the market place. I was looking for a sword." Eri was visibly annoyed at this statement. There weren't any non-NPC blacksmiths at the market place. "She caught my eye and we started flirting, getting closer." Death looked off into the distance with a smile. "It was a pretty torrid affair. She eventually said she was a blacksmith, and she forged Feuerschwert's predecessor for me. We decided to get married for the shared inventory tab." Death took a long swig from the wine, apparently leveling him up, meaning it was an expensive wine if it gave XP.

"Someone once told me that a relationship cannot have sex involved and remain casual, so obviously we came to be closer and closer emotionally. This was about three months ago." Death smiled like he was remembering the best days of his life. "We've gotten to the point where we agreed to continue our relationship in real life." Death sat there pensively, then took another swig. "When did Booth and you start getting close?"

"When the game started, I was an emotional wreck. I'd never been constantly close to dying for so long in my life. I came to depend on him more and more. At first, I couldn't fall asleep alone. He always stuck to his stupid religion though." Eri said, remembering the frustration she had felt so often, sleeping in his arms and feeling him against her, unable to fulfill the wild desires that raced through her head. "We grew distant because of that, then closer again as he became my delivery boy. He was always there, dependable and solid as rock. When he wasn't out figuring how to level up the fastest or trying to go through quests, he was risking his life getting smithing materials for me.

"At the beginning of the year, we started to go fishing together again. This and his increasingly outstanding character cemented the foundations for our love. Two weeks ago, he finally proposed. We've been living together since then."

"That's a nice, romantic one. I wish I could have had one like that." Death took his feet off the table and sat up straight. "I see the fear in your eyes." He said, getting up. "You're terrified of me." Eri watched in fear as Death dragged over a chair and sat down so their faces were an inch from each other. He ran his hand down her cheek while he smelled her hair, laughing. Eri was nearly in tears. _Could he be capable of _that_?_

"Please. Stop." Eri said, desperate. Death leaned back with an evil chuckle.

"You are far too easy to scare. I love Lydia, remember that much. I also promised Booth no harm would come to you." Death said, standing up and leaving the room. "You need to learn how to trust me, it will probably be essential later in the future." And with that, he was gone for the day.

_**I finally completed a Digital Art piece of the OC characters and have posted it on Deviant Art under Tabor-Shannon. Here's a direct link: art/OC-Characters-370251579?q=gallery%3Atabor-shannon&qo=0**_

_**The expected upload date for the OCS characters is in the description of the art piece.**_

_**This is it for the chapter. It would be good if you could head on over to the polls on my profile, since the results will affect the chapter's writing.**_


	9. Bad Tidings and Division

**Floor 50: Outside of Floor Boss Room.**

**January 7th, 2024. 8:00 PM.**

"Come on, we're there." Heathcliff said, leading the party of 46 players total. Due to the nature of the game, every twenty-five floors, something new was added, not to mention it was an exceptionally strong boss. From the twenty-fifth floor onwards, for example, Bosses could now see through the Pot-and-Switch system the players used, or at least to some extent. The difficulty in getting even forty-six players to participate in a boss fight were a new factor would be added in had been difficult, at best.

"We are hitting a land mark today, gentlemen!" Godfree said. He was a very enthusiastic player, having taken on the role of "knight" and vanguard commander full on. He even talked and acted like one.

"We're always hitting a land mark according to him." A guildless player snickered.

"All right. Everyone remember the strategy." Heathcliff began. "Group A is formed, as usual, with the KoB's finest tanks. We will take the brunt of the damage. We should be aware, however, that this boss was reported to have six arms. This means he will probably be capable of getting around the Pot-and-Switch system because of this. To counter this, we have prepared to disband Group A. When they are disbanded, six players will focus on blocking an arm. Group B is composed of the best players. Group B's job is to coordinate with Group A to deal the most damage possible while still hiding behind our shields."

"Group C will serve as a replacement to Group A. The Divine Dragon Alliance has acceded to this role and we thank them for it. Group D is the replacement for Group B. Should either Group A or B have low health or be exhausted, their respective replacement will jump in. Group E is in charge of taking care of any mobs this boss might spawn along with defending the command group. The final group, Group F will be on standby until the boss's final bar is reached. They are the best spearmen we could get. Their job will be to deal as much damage as possible to the boss from as far away as possible.

If everything goes according to plan, Group A will contain the boss and block all of its attacks. Group B will serve as the damage dealing source. Group C will be on standby to assist Group A. Group D will be on standby to assist Group B. Group E will be on clean up and as an emergency switch in. Group F will be on standby until the last health bar is reached, then they will help deal more damage. Does everyone understand?"

"YES!" A chorus of shouts answered Heathcliff.

"Does everyone understand?"

"YES!"

"All right! Give it hell!" Heathcliff roared. The doors opened, and the players charged in running and roaring. The Valkyries were split up. Michael and DragonBlade were in Group B, Tix was in Group D. Lydia, having proven to obey Death's order to serve as Eri's replacement to the best of her ability, was in Group F as a spearwoman.

Michael wielded Athena's Needle as effectively as always, his troubled heart not impeding him from performing to the best of his ability. _At every turn, my leadership abilities are tested and they fail. I lost Tabor, Donovan, and Emma. I lost our only chance to revive any of them. I lost our chance to capture Death and got Booth's wife captured in the process. My lack of trust in Death and Lydia caused us to lose our chance to capture PoH. But not now... I proposed this strategy to Heathcliff, of keeping a group of lightly armored spearmen in the back whose equipment was focused on cranking out every last bit of possible damage out of their spears, the front group making up for their absolute lack of defense._

"Switch!" Godfree ordered, snapping Michael back into the moment. Michael, Kirito, Klein, Asuna, Kuradeel, Argil, and DragonBlade along with another player he did not know charged in during the gap left by Group A's effective blocking. It was glorious, all eight players striking this way and that, reducing the Boss's first health bar by a tenth. It was a large, metallic statue of what looked like a Buddha representation. It had six metallic arms, all of them in delay status because of Group A's efforts. Suddenly, the arms glowed green and they swung in at the sortie. DragonBlade hacked at one and got out of their range, pulling a protesting Klein out of the way of another. Asuna was, of course, known as the Flash for a reason and she was out before an arm could reach her.

"Duck!" Kuradeel barked, both he and Argil ducking under the arm. Michael wasn't as fast and got smacked out of the way. His health went down a fifth, almost two, when Michael luckily fell faster than the system had calculated.

"Switch!" Godfree ordered, Group B getting out of range and Group A blocking again.

"Statue appears to have reduced time spans for the 'Delay' effect, strike fast and strike hard, gentlemen!" Heathcliff ordered.

"Switch!" Godfree ordered again, Group B charging in the moment the order came out of his mouth. All eight players were now aware of the two second time frame they had. Michael struck three times in the time span, then exited. Asuna had hit six times. _She is awfully fast..._ Michael thought.

"Switch!" Godfree said, Group A meeting the six arms. Group B readied themselves again, the pattern continuing for a while. DragonBlade's health had been getting low, and some of the KoB tanks were looking tired, so Godfree switched out Group C for A and Group D for B. That's when Michael saw _him_. He was a Japanese player, about 5'9"-ish with dark bronze skin. Black locks of hair fell over his face carelessly, hiding his coal black eyes occasionally. He was very handsome, appealing to both the Japanese and cosmopolitan beauty standards at once. Except for that contrast between the twiggy or fat nerds that composed most of the SAO population, there wouldn't have been much to stick out about him.

Unless you had run across Death. They had the same belt, kimono, and baggy pants, not to mention the four throwing knives and the shawl on the back. _Is this Death?_ Michael thought to himself. _The gall he has to show himself in public, then again, not many players know about him._ Michael had gone to Heathcliff and Kibaou to alert them to the player. They said that having PoH running around was enough, and that as long as Death was not publically he wouldn't present a problem. The player withdrew a demonic bastard sword and readied himself, evidently belonging to Group D.

"Hey, Dragon." Michael said, nodding to the player. DragonBlade looked in shock at the player.

"Oh, him?" A female player belonging to Group E said. "He's Sheito Okamura. He built a fortune by coordinating different player-merchants into a guild and ensuring they followed the flow of players so they could ride the lows and sell out in the highs. He's been able to predict what items will become popular with uncanny certainty, making the guild, The Merchants, one of the highest earning organizations. He's also _really_ handsome." She said the last sentence with a sort of longing in her voice. Michael chuckled inwardly. In this world of nerds, even Booth, often overlooked in real life, was suddenly a celebrity because of his aesthetic appearance. "What are you looking for with him? He's also an information broker, almost at Argo the Rat's level they say."

"We thought we recognized a friend, but we must have been mistaken." Michael was surprised how much it pained him to call Death a 'friend.' But what if this Sheito was Death? Death didn't have to be the player's player ID after all.

"Your friend's gotta be lucky, looking like that and all." She said, focusing on the fight once more. Sheito didn't have a flammard or Baionoido, but Michael was certain this man was Death or knew about him somehow.

"We'll get Lydia to approach him about joining the guild as a blacksmith after the fight." Michael told DragonBlade, who agreed. The fight was relatively boring for a Floor Boss fight, the new feature: Bosses aren't affected for as long with statuses such as Delay or Poison, wasn't that big of a deal. The fight was taking awfully long, though. The point had come were the lancer squad was striking at the boss from outside its range, so Michael and the rest weren't as useful.

"Your plan worked well, after all." Heathcliff said from besides Michael.

"It did." Michael said, happy. He would have to eat those words, though.

"It's changing!" Someone exclaimed. The six arms suddenly split, revealing six Shaolin monks with poleswords. They leaped into Group F, and Michael realized the boss had somehow seen through his plan. Both Heathcliff and Michael withdrew their swords and charged in, both in a mad dash to reach the under-armored players. Someone else did before they could.

"He's here!" Tix exclaimed, pointing as a flammard ran a monk through and launched it up, causing blue moxes to rain down on the battlefield, joining two other clusters that had belonged to players. Michael impaled a monk's head with his rapier, a blow that would have been fatal in real life but was only severely wounding in the game since it didn't empty the monk's HP bar. The next blow was enough, however.

"Is this Death?" Heathcliff asked as he fought off a monk. The statue was pouring out Shaolin monks as it healed itself.

"Aye. Whatch out, his sword has a nasty bite." Heathcliff nodded and charged in. Death saw the incoming player and launched himself into the monks, forcing both himself and Heathcliff to slay them. Michael began defending Group F almost single-handedly since the other groups were too busy. DragonBlade joined him shortly, but Tix had busied himself with slaying the statue. He had paired himself up with Schmitt, who was aware of Tix's Blitz skill. Tix was now dealing his usual damage plus another 67%, but any blow dealt to him at the moment would deal 67% more damage to him, so Schmitt was covering him. They were effectively cutting swaths in the monks and gettting closer and closer to the statue. The whole raid party had, as was usual, been broken up to allow players flexibility to deal with the boss. They all also made sure to hit the boss at least once so they would get a share in the loot and XP.

"Dragon, we're capturing Death right now!" Michael ordered.

"But he's actually helping and he hasn't killed anyone." DragonBlade pointed out.

"It's because Lydia is here and this is sort of his debut with everyone else. He's just a dirty PKer, like everyone else." Michael said, charging in through the gap left by Heathcliff. DragonBlade followed uncertainly, but he followed nonetheless. Death was busy handling both the monks and Heathcliff. It was impossible to land a blow behind that shield, but Death was certain he could decrease the durability of the shield enough to shatter or completely break it in a matter of minutes, should the fight come down to that, but he wasn't planning on extending it that long.

"Heathcliff-sama, a question." Death said, grunting under another of Heathcliff's blows that had been effectively blocked while kicking back a monk.

"What is it?" Heathcliff asked, dodging a swipe from Death that almost nicked his nose.

"If an evil can only be fought with another evil, would you continue to struggle pointlessly while keeping your morals, or would you sully your soul to save others?" Death asked, grinning under his mask.

"It is best to continue struggling while remaining good, as others will join your cause and overwhelm the evil eventually." Michael voiced, striking at Death's mask with his rapier. _Eri said the mask didn't have much AP, rather effects, so that means its durability is low as well. If I can hit it enough times, it will shatter and we will know who it is._ Michael thought, aiming blow after blow at Death's mask, all of them agilely blocked.

Seeing as he had two opponents, Death did something that would shock the world and earn him its hate: A dagger suddenly appeared in a reverse grip on Death's left hand, the flammard in his right. _You can't wield two weapons in the game!_ Michael thought in shock. Death used the moment to let go of the knife, showing it to be part of the vambrace, probably an armor piece defined as 'sharp' so he could cut with it. Many shields and bracers had this feature so you could stab and defend with it, just that no one had thought of making one in a dagger shape, no one but Heathcliff and Michael saw this feature, however.

"It is in fact better to sacrifice oneself for the purity of others, so only one is sullied and all others remained pure." Death answered back. Michael looked at his opponent with interest. _So, we got a Machiavelli_ _here_. Michael thought with interest. Heathcliff never did answer the question, however, as he struck with his sword. Michael struck with his rapier as well. Death dodged back and used the two parrying hooks on Feuerschwert to drag two monks into the way.

Death kept heading to the beleaguered boss, using monks to block Heathcliff and Michael's advance. DragonBlade had finally caught up, however, and they were heading to Death much faster than he would have liked. The boss's final health bar was getting lower and lower, and Death was literally and figuratively getting closer and closer. Death ran up and struck with the dagger-shield first and then the flammard, dealing the final blow to the boss. The statue cranked and clanked a few more seconds, then disappeared. The monks suddenly fled up the walls, into the roof, faint bursts of blue light shining as they disappeared.

"Listen to me!" Death said, Feuerschwert and the dagger-shield in his hands. Everyone turned and looked at him as he stood on a pillar. "I am Death. Anyone who player kills when it is not in self-defense or another justifiable circumstance will face my wrath." Death said. His weapon and the 'weapon' had everyone's attention. "Feel free to contact her," Death pointed at Lydia, "and she will put the request through to me if you have any claims against a player. I will investigate and, if necessary and justifiable, will carry out justice. No one will be saved; justice is blind." And with that, he teleported away. The whole room was quiet, then everyone turned to Lydia.

"Make a circle around her!" Michael ordered. Death was going to use this chance to steal her away when they tried to flood her, Michael was certain of it. The Valkyries along with Heathcliff and another KoB tank formed a protective circle around Lydia, escorting her out of the room. "You're coming with me." Michael stated. "Teleport: Mishe!"

**Floor 35: Mishe. Valkyries' HQ.**

**January 24th, 2024. 9:32 PM.**

"Did you know about this?!" Michael asked her.

"No, he hadn't planned to go public." Lydia answered, scared of Michael's fury-furrowed brow.

"From the messages Eri has been sending me and what I've been able to infer from his actions, we had built a profile for him two days ago." Booth said, his mouth full of ramen.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Michael roared.

"I tried, but you were too busy fretting over the lost chance to capture PoH and sulking at Death." Booth said, slurping some more noodles. "Really, I don't see why you don't trust him."

"He's a PKer, they are all evil, depraved beings. They can't be trusted. Any positive quality in Death is acting."

"Actually, from the profile, which I admit isn't always 100% reliable, it would appear he is quite honest and get this: He wouldn't have gone public under normal circumstances." Booth chewed on the noodles pensively, picking out a piece of shrimp and laying it to the side. He hated shrimp. "It would appear something forced him to do so."

"He wants to find out where we're keeping Lydia!" Michael exclaimed in triumph. "He's going to try and rescue her, that way he'll have her back _and_ still keeping Eri."

"Actually, he's too honest and a stickler for the rules." Booth said. "It should be noted his only actual killings had been people with orange player markers who could actively be confirmed as PKers and not someone who... acted in self defense, for example." Booth said, waving his fork around as he spoke. "It is quite interesting he allowed self-defense as an acceptable excuse for an orange player marker, most of the guilds and players don't. He also said he would investigate, meaning he is a fair player." Booth stuck another huge mouthful of ramen into his mouth. "In fact, if it wasn't for his methods, I would admire the guy."

"You're working with him, aren't you?" Michael asked.

"What? Of course not!" Booth exclaimed, almost choking on his ramen.

"You are the main protector for Lydia-"

"Because he has Eri and said anything that happened to Lydia would happen two-fold to Eri!"

"But you could be using it as a cover-up. You're smart that way." Michael said. Tix and DragonBlade had sort of backed out of the discussion from the beginning.

"Preposterous!" Booth spit out quickly.

"People telling lies are often the fastest to answer." Michael said, grinning trumphantly.

"Where'd you see that one? _CSI_? _Lie to Me?_" Booth said. "You know what, forget it. I'm not going to be working for people who doubt my every move." Booth got up and headed to his room. "I'm going to try and convince Death to change his methods. I'm taking Lydia with me."

"Oh no you don't. She's my main resource in this case."

"As well as in mine. She's coming with me because Eri is with Death and anything that happens to Lydia will happen two-fold to Eri." Booth said, his patience running thin.

"She's staying with me. I can extort Death out into the open with her."

"Fine! Let's duel for her!" Booth exclaimed angrily.

"Fine!" Michael bit back between clenched teeth. Both men went out into the yard, DragonBlade and Tix going to act as mediators. Lydia watched with an amused expression from the balcony to her room.

"Don't you guys think we should settle the Trona issue first?" DragonBlade proposed.

"This is what is at hand right now." Michael said. "We'll settle this first. Whoever loses this will probably go after Trona."

"Your pride is at hand now." Booth muttered under his breath, withdrawing Fragarach. Michael withdrew Athena's Needle, staring down Booth evenly. Booth sent the request for a duel until the red zone. Michael accepted. As the counter raced down, Michael adopted a fencing stance while Booth raised his sword over his head, ready to bring it down at a moment's notice.

"Start!" DragonBlade said when the timer hit zero. Michael went in for an early strike, but Booth had coldly calculated that move. Michael was angry and frustrated, meaning he would make mistakes. Booth was, as usual, unfazed and calm. Fire and Ice. Kori to Hono. Fragarach went down in an arc, swatting away Michael's rapier and allowing Booth to headbutt Michael. Booth wasted no time at all and threw two throwing knives split into five. All ten knives struck Michael's chest, lowering his health significantly. Booth went in for some blows with Fragarach, but Michael stuck Athena's Needle in Booth's shoulder. Booth's Piety skill minimized the damage, having reached level 891, practically negating most damage.

"Damn your Piety!" Michael roared, watching Booth's health bar barely go down. Booth, of course, winced at the swearing and swung with Fragarach. The battle had turned to Michael's advantage now, however, since the rapier was more effective at this range than a bastard sword. A rain of blows fell on Booth, who calmly blocked as many of them as he could.

"See! You are a fool, Booth." Michael exclaimed triumphantly. The rain of blows had reduced Booth's health to about 5% from the red zone.

"You dumb ox!" Booth roared, withdrawing a healing crystal. _A crystal!?_ Michael thought in a panic. He hadn't brought any because he had been in 'relax' mode since they were in the guild HQ. Booth had remained fully equipped, however, because... because... _He foresaw the fight!_ Michael realized suddenly.

"Heal!" Booth commanded the crystal. "Checkmate." He said, swinging his knee into Michael's groin, knocking him back. Michael was now at the ideal range for Fragarach, and Booth swung the sword into Michael with all his strength. Michael's armor was ignored by Fragarach's special ability (2% chance to avoid all AP), luckily for Booth, and Michael's health went into the red zone. Michael fell on his seat into the grass, Booth pointing Fragarach into Michael's face. Michael's face got visibly red, SAO's exaggerated emotions system causing steam to rise from his ears.

"Fine!" He barked. "Take her, I didn't need the bitch anyways!" Michael stormed into the house, furious at his own defeat. Lydia looked down at Booth, shedding a single tear at the insult. Booth had, of course, comically winced, causing her to smile as well.

"Come on, we might redeem Death." Booth said to her.

**Floor 35: Mishe. Former Valkyries' HQ.**

**January 24th, 2024. 9:32 PM.**

Michael had retreated into a corner of the living room when they all left. _Donovan..._ His mind thought, desperate for his brother. Donovan had always been someone to talk to, that understood him, a rock of comfort amidst a stormy sea. _Tabor..._ His mind whimpered, longing for his friend. He wanted Tabor to hold him in those strong arms and explain everything to him, give him guidance. When Tabor had been around, nothing could hurt either one. _Emma..._ Michael thought, tears streaming from his eyes. _Why did I have to fail all of you?_ _Why did I try and do the impossible?_ Michael whimpered and tightened the fetal position he'd been in.

"We're here for you." Tabor said. Michael turned around, desperately looking for a sign of his friend. Tabor stood there, clad in his Heavy Demonbone Armor. Michael had teased him about the armor choice since it was decorated with demon horns and vampire signets. The method of obtaining it couldn't have been more holy: Kill an Archdemon, three Pyreheart Demons, twenty-five Reiver Devils, fifty Succubi, and one-hundred Imp Flayers and bring all their bones and scales to the Archangel's Forge. The smith would then forge the bones and scales into a unique set of armor obtainable only by five players. The bone was black, trimmed with molten red scales. The signets and horns were done with ebony, and blood-red rubies flashed as the vampires' eyes.

"Wha- bu-" Michael stammered, but Emma walked over and shushed him by putting a finger on his lips.

"Don't worry, we're dead." Emma said. She looked remarkably good to be dead, too material as well.

"Then... how?" Michael asked.

"It just _is_." Tabor said. "We saw you in despair and thought we would pass by to help." Emma laid her gloved hand on his shoulder and pulled him up with the other. They both had player icons, puzzling Michael even more. She had her usual Meadow Knight armor on, its flowing dark green cape matching the dark green trim on her alabaster armor and the beautiful golden leaf motifs and elven signets.

"We came here to give you three things:" Emma said.

"Comfort." Tabor said. "Which has already been done.

"Purpose." Emma said. "Continue your mission to bring the PKers to justice. Never kill anyone and remain with your religion."

"And something concrete to remember us by." Tabor said. He materialized in front of him a box, about seven feet tall and three feet wide. Emma removed her hairpin and laid it on his open hand. Michael looked at the angel wings sprouting from behind the emerald, the blade of a sword protruding from the bottom of the emerald and its hilt from the top.

"Goodbye." They said in unison. "Remember this in hard times: We'll always be in your heart." Both players burst into blue moxes, reminding Michael of that horrible night.

"No! Guys, wait! DON'T GO!" He ordered, but only Emma's voice answered:

"Always." Michael broke down and wailed long and hard. Once he was done, once his eyes could cry no more and they were bloodshot and red, he fell asleep, too tired to deal with anything at the moment. When Michael woke, his eyes were still red, but his fear was gone. It had been replaced by an inmense apathy.

**Floor 35:Mishe. Michael's House.**

**January 25th, 2024. 7:32 AM**

"It's been ten hours." The player said. DragonBlade turned to look at her. Her name was Leonidas, but she looked nothing like the Greek legend. She looked like Emma, which was why she was there.

"Damn... what he's been through." DragonBlade turned to look at the other player, a man resembling Tabor, named Kuru. They had both been close enough, and some tweaking with the system's "make-up" function had made them look just like the screenshots they had of Tabor and Emma. Lydia, apparently a far better blacksmith than Eri, had crafted custom sets made to resemble the dead player's armor strongly. No one had been found to resemble Donovan, but Booth had concluded Tabor and Emma would be enough.

"Thanks for the help. Drop by with Lydia at any time for what was promised." DragonBlade said, offering his hand in thanks.

"Thanks." Kuru said, shaking DragonBlade's hand and then walking off. Leonidas lingered, however.

"Will he be all right?"

"I can only trust what Kaihaku said." Booth was a master at this, but he wasn't a psychologist, so it wasn't certain it would work.

"I hope you find your other friend as well." Leonidas said. "Tell Lydia to keep what she gave me, helping Michael was enough." She looked through the window at Michael, a tear welling up in her eyes. "I hate having you use him like that."

"It's... for the greater good." DragonBlade said. Leonidas didn't know Michael or any other Valkyrie personally, she was just a kind and altruistic person. As predicted, Michael had entered a listless apathy that would probably last for a few days. He would then open the case, find the armor and swords, and search out PoH. PoH would find him, rather, and then Death would be waiting for PoH.

**Floor 35: Mishe. Michael's house.**

**January 31st, 2024. 10:09 PM.**

Michael raised his head weakly. The overpowering presence of the box calling to him. In it was hope, in it was comfort, in it... he had the feeling, no, God had given him the feeling answers were in there. Michael dragged himself to the box, the arms that had fearlessly slayed hundreds of mobs now tired beyond measure by carrying the weight of the world. DragonBlade's intense blue eyes watched intently as Michael got closer and closer. An index finger reached out, no other ones accompanying it, and touched the box.

"What- I-" Michael stuttered as it opened and revealed its contents: A replica of Donovan's headband, a set of Light Angel Armor, a bastard sword, and a kite shield. Michael pushed hismelf up, strength returning to him hand in hand along with purpose. He grasped the handle on the sword with both hands, pulling himself up. A strong leg planted itself on the ground, increasing the momentum upwards. Another leg joined it, raising its owner to his full stature.

"With this sword-" Michael said, raising the bastard sword, "I-" Michael gripped part of the blade with his hand, an orange line appearing, "Michael Bartholomew Johnson Paek-" Michael ran the blade in a perpendicular line on his face, leaving an orange-red line from the top of his brow to the bottom of his jaw passing over his right eye, "-Swear I will bring justice to your killers on this wound." Michael used the keep scar function on the mirror, and his pact was sealed. He put the armor on, replacing his musketeer outfit.

Michael analyzed his new armor. The Angel Armor fit his benevolent path of action, an aesthetical opposite to the Demonbone Armor, the bastard sword, Tenshi no no Ken, had a long, pale blade and ornate angel wings as a handguard. The grip was solid and long, and the weapon felt heavy in his hand, but it was the good sort of heaviness. Michael donned the headband last, thinking of Donovan as he did. _I wiil uphold my standard as you would have wished me to!_ Michael said in his head, the utmost determination behind it.

DragonBlade reported to Booth immediately:

"He's out of the house." He messaged Booth.

"Good." Was Booth's only answer.

**Floor 52: Wolf's Den. Boca Au Lupo City Square.**

**May 3rd, 2024. Noon.**

Michael stood in the middle of the city square, foot tapping impatiently. For the past few days, he'd gone around every single city hub announcing that he wanted to challenge PoH to a duel to the red zone in the Boca Au Lupo City Square at noon, on May 3rd. He now awaited patiently for his opponent. A crowd had gathered under the sweltering sun. A sudden, collective gasp rose among the crowd as it parted for Death's Handyman. Johnny Black walked behind him, smiling broadly and waving to tease and annoy the crowd. Red-eye XaXa, however, was nowhere to be seen, troubling Michael.

"I hear you want a duel." PoH said. "Made it in the city so we can't kill you like we killed your friend?" PoH taunted. Michael stood, unflinching.

"I did that so no one would be tempted to kill _you_." Michael answered. Michael was fully aware of the hidden viewer. He'd come to peace with the mysterious man during those six days of thought. Death was innocent, controversial, but innocent. He only killed PKers, and had the funny habit of letting them attack first, except for that first time. Both he and Michael worked with the same purpose, albeit with different methods. Michael had also spotted Booth and Lydia, but he was certain all of his friends were in the crowd.

"Hmm. Someone has a sharp tongue." PoH bit back. Michael saw a player signal move from one rooftop to another, a Hiding level so high no one else had detected him except Michael, apparently. Michael felt fury rise up inside him as two of the objects of his fury were brought together. _Calm like Booth, calm like Booth, calm like Booth. _Michael repeated to himself in his head. _He's using me, but so be it..._

"Scared I might beat you?" Michael asked. "Finding comfort in your words?" Michael found himself talking like Booth, thinking like Booth. _He's the better man, whether I like it or not. I am subject to emotions and controlled by petty insults. If just for this once, I must think: "What would Booth do?"_ The duel request was sent, and PoH accepted, the counter ticking down like some dread judge.

"It's show time." PoH remarked as the counter hit zero. PoH launched himself at Michael, a flash of lightning. Michael responded by raising the kiteshield and blocking every single blow. People remarked the PoH's dagger was an extension of his arm, but Michael had a shield to match. Blow for blow, Michael blocked them all, forgetting he had a sword arm, just his shield. MIchael's existance was reduced down to the shield in his mind, focusing solely on that.

"You've improved a lot. Motivated by Tabor's death?" PoH taunted. Fury welled up within Michael, causing the most minute of openings, but it was enough. Mate Chopper raked across Michael's chest, fury and frustration bursting into Michael's mind. _Calm like Booth, calm like Booth! GAAAAAAH!_ Michael's mind roared, frustration and anger building up inside him.

"Trona misses you so much. Don't worry though, my men have been keeping her... entertained for you." PoH continued to taunt Michael verbally, each taunt resulting in a small gap in Michael's defense. _Calm like Booth, calm like- Ah, fuck it!_ Michael thought. The pause between offense and defense costing him another two blows, but his sword was in play now. Michael's assault was relentless, PoH finding it hard, for once, to keep up with Michael. A blow made it through, followed by more and more as Michael gained momentum. PoH used the chance to swing with Mate Chopper, upwards, upwards, and _BAM!_ Off went Michael's sword arm.

"This isn't nearly as hard as I expected."

"That's what she said to you." Michael taunted, causing PoH to momentarily lose his cool. Michael managed to bash PoH in the face with the shield, costing PoH some HP. It was mostly because bashing with a shield registered as hitting the ground too hard if you fell, so it didn't do as much damage as a sword, unless you had the Holy Sword skill, but it appeared to be unique to Heathcliff-san.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard the same. Oh wait, you can't." PoH responded. PoH appeared to be one step ahead mentally and physically. _Come on, Booth. What are you planning?_

"My win." PoH said, swinging in his Mate Chopper.

"I think not." Death said, five knives sailing out of the shadows. All five struck PoH right in his face, knocking him back. Normally, you wouldn't be able to take damage in a safe zone, but since PoH was in a duel, he could. PoH watched in despair as his health entered the red and Death sprinted out of the shadows. XaXa suddenly lept out of the shadows.

"Rematch!" He called out. "Estoc against flammard." Death whistled and Lydia made a move for PoH, trying to restrain him. PoH clapped his hands theatrically, however, and fifteen hooded men and women charged out of the shadows.

"It's Laughing Coffin!" One woman cried out in fear, forcing everyone to retreat. PoH laughed as he took out a teleport crystal.

"Oh no you don't!" Michael cried out in despair, his hands reaching out for PoH. _If I can only touch even one pixel of him!_

"Michael, no!" Booth warned, tackling Michael away. PoH whispered something, and burst into blue moxes. "Follow Death." Death had taken out a crystal of his own, along with a rope.

"Corridor:-" Death eyed seven Laughing Coffin members, "-HADES!" He roared, whipping all seven with the rope, his eyes suddenly shining red. Michael grabbed on to the tip of Death's shawl, and he was teleported as well. He did not recognize the place, but he knew he was in a player house, since this type of architacture wasn't present anywhere else on Aincrad. Smooth black surfaces with crimson red runes formed the walls, cobalt spikes of different sizes adorned the walls and protected recording crystals that were constantly replaying the screams of assorted people. Three other Laughing Coffin members were impaled on spikes, naked. SInce they were in a player house, they couldn0t take any damage, but their equipment could, Lydia stood in the corner, a magenta video recording crystal recording the whole scene.

"Enthrall!" Death ordered, seven masked and hooded players, all of average height with nothing exceptional about them, grasped the Laughing Coffing members. "This is what happens to those who PK!" Death exclaimed theatrically. "I condemn them to this room, which only I have corridor crystals to, for the remainder of the game!" Michael watched in shock as Death duel-requested each one, the PKer was forced to accept, and a lance was driven through their groin then out of their head. Using the "keep scar" function, Death made the hole remain, allowing the pike to remain inside. The player was then bound and gagged and placed on a pedestal. Their finger was placed and bound so they were constantly hitting "replay" on a recording of the screams they had made while Death performed the grisly procedure, then they were just left there.

"I condemn you- TO BOREDOM! And an eternity of screaming, that too." Death said the last sentence almost lightheartedly, and Michael suddenly wanted to laugh at his sudden realization. While it was terrifying and extremely gruesome, that was basically what he was condemning them to: Being bound in the room until the game was cleared, their screams the only noise they could listen to. They were also unable to talk because of the gags. It appeared the three that had already been in there, the test subjects, had gotten used to the screaming and were mostly just staring at the wall or thinking how they would kill Death. Lydia ended the recording With a close-up on Death, his eyes flashing red.

"I will no longer kill, merely condemn to boredom. You can also assume I will give a list of identities to the authorities once this is over so corresponding legal action can be taken on PKers, AKA murderers."

**Floor: unknown. Laughing Coffin HQ.**

**May 3rd, 2024. 7:00 PM.**

Trona looked up as her cell opened and hoped it would be Sora. It was PoH.

"Your friends, oh yes, your friends." PoH said, smiling desperately. "They are causing _waaaaaaay_ too much trouble." PoH slapped her, causing her to scream.

"Hey!" Sora said, bursting into the cell. He'd exchanged his light blue jacket for the Laughing Coffin's black cloak.

"You stay out of this!" PoH suddenly remembered something. "You were their friend as well, weren't you?" PoH asked maniacally. Turning to Sora.

"You know I left them." Sora answered hotly. "They were misguided, they hindered me from reaching my, no, our goal: the freeing of every last player."

"Good." PoH said, then thought about it. "I've got an idea."


	10. Sora Redemptio

**Floor 58: Mount Kita, Death's Base of Operations.**

**May 29th, 2024. 5:00 AM.**

Booth woke up suddenly, a voice saying in his head: _beware, beware!_ Booth wondered if it was God, only having concretely decided God had actually talked to him twice in his life, but then dismissed it. He neither A) remembered it sounding like that, and B) it might have been part of a dream. The dream might have been God-sent, however, a possibility that Booth considered, then abandoned the trail of thought entirely. The methods God could use gave him headaches sometimes. Booth decided to dismiss the whole thing as a figment of his imagination and laid down on the bed again. He snuggled up to Eri, laying his head on the crook of his neck, inhaling the smell of her hair.

Her hair smelled like everyone else's hair, however, giving no significant meaning to the gesture except for the fact he and Eri were sleeping side by side and he could smell her hair. Death had allowed Booth and Michael to live with him as long as Eri didn't reveal his identity and Michael and Booth didn't attempt to unmask him. Eri had consented, but Booth and Michael were still trying to figure out who Death was, much to Eri's annoyance.

Booth fidgeted around for about five minutes, then just turned over. He hated being the big spoon, something Eri teased him about. It was among his other curious habits, some incited laughter, others annoyance. Eri had practically exploded when she walked in on him trying to stack as many shrimp as possible before the game desintegrated them for being out of storage for too long.

"I hate shrimp, you don't eat any. I thought I would be nice to our decapodical crustacean friends by giving them _some_ purpose in this virtual life of theirs." Booth had said.

"Did you ever consider that shrimp is both Michael and Death's favorite food and that _maybe_ I took the time to cook it since we're Michael's friends and this is Death's house?" Booth had given a throaty and long _hmmmmm_ at Eri's answer, his index finger at his lips and his thumb at his chin while he stared at the shrimp pensively, one eybrow arched and the other one flattened. They all suddenly burst into blue moxes, causing him to laugh.

"Jesus Christ, Booth!" Eri exclaimed, prompting a whince from Booth. "Go catch some more!" Eri had ranted at him for hours later when Death had asked where all the shrimp was when he opened the freezer and Booth had forgotten to catch some more. He'd been busy planning on how to unmask Death with Michael. This was something that Eri also found annoying and extremely rude.

"He's hosting us and that's one condition, for Pete's sake." Eri had ranted at him once "Don't you ever think about other people on a non-grand-scale basis?!". She did point out something Booth hadn't considered: He didn't want his identity known because once everyone else was out the Laughing Coffin members or some other orange guild might find some way to avenge themselves. She also gave him the cold shoulder in bed on those days. Booth was willing to bear with this all. Just looking at Eri and waking up next to her every morning was enough for him ever since Death had taken her.

_Death..._ Booth thought. He was certainly a very interesting man. Booth had been passively trying to find out who Death was passively. The Sheito Okamura lead might be something, but Booth wasn't too certain. He was too high profile, people would have noticed. He hadn't been able to analyze or probe at Sheito, however, and there was always a chance it was someone who knew Sheito. The thing that disturbed Booth the most was that his psychological match-ups indicated a very strong similarity in ideologies and behavior with both Tabor and Donovan, though they were both dead. The other one was that Booth showed up on those as well, but he knew he couldn't be Death.

"Booth..." Eri mumbled in her sleep, moving her hand and laying it on his abdomen. _Ahhhh_ Booth sighed internally, his preferred sleeping position finally cleared.

"Booth!" Michael called, louder than Booth would have liked.

"What?!" Booth called back. "It's 5:17 AM!"

"It's PoH!" Michael called back. _Good _Booth thought, _w__e might get another chance at him._ PoH had also remained idle for a while, something that set Booth on edge. That hadn't stopped Death, Michael, and Booth from dealing with several smaller orange guilds. People were starting to call Laughing Coffin a "red" guild now, though. Booth would have to remember that.

"What has he done now?!" Booth asked, putting his clothes on.

"He wants to talk to you." Michael said breathlessly. "He's got Trona." The last sentence was a bit more heartspoken.

**May 29th, 2024. 7:09:37 AM.**

**Floor 58: Hero's Fall Monument. One kilometer from the city gates.**

Death set down Baionoido heavily, perpendicular to the ground, causing some pebbles to jump.

"Hello, Death. It's nice to look at you face to face." PoH said. "Or rather, mask to face. I'd like to discuss the terms of your surrender."

"Give her over." Michael said, a bit desperate. XaXa held his blood-red Estoc to her neck.

"Or what? We have all the good cards." PoH said, eyeing the four that had come. Eri had stayed, not really being combat-oriented. Death turned to look at Booth as Booth began laughing and clapping his hands slowly. Sora cocked his head, his orange player marker bobbing slightly. Niramabuto frowned.

"My, oh, my, PoH. You have seriously underestimated me." Booth said. "Did you think me that stupid? Did you really think I couldn't read you like everyone else?" Booth spat on the ground. "Hand her over or you lose Sora."

"What?" Sora asked, perking up.

"Don't listen to him, Sora. He's spewing lies again." PoH turned to look at Sora. "He's still living under the illusion people _do_ die."

"Sora, I've seen it myself. People's heads get fried!" Michael pleaded. Sora looked at both sides, uncertain of what to do. His trusting and kind nature made him want to believe both sides at once, giving him a headache.

"Says the guy who believes in an invisible old man who lives in the sky, ruling over Earth. They claim He is good and loving yet there is still evil in this world and He sends people to Hell if they don't believe in him." PoH smirked. "I wouldn't believe a word he says, it's probably all gibberish."

"PoH, I have never met someone who was so full of himself before. Ever." Booth said.

"Aren't you the same as Michael?" PoH snickered.

"PoH, physically and from a commanding point of view, you are amazing. Mentally, however, you are _under_whelming." Booth said. "You underestimated me. This has been a game of chess since you took Sora, but I just struck checkmate. In five minutes, Sora will be mine and the tables will have turned on you."

"Bullshit."

"Sora, if you don't believe anything Michael or I say, then you must believe in what you see, right? Otherwise how could you ever live?" Booth asked. PoH tightened his grip around Mate Chopper, ready to strike. Sora nodded. "Let's run over what you know, all right? Kayaba Akihiko said people would die if they died in the game or had their helmet removed before the game was cleared. Now, if it isn't true that people die because they die in the game, that must be because Kayaba Akihiko lied about the power of the NerveGear. This means that you wouldn't die even if you had your helmet removed. Then, Sora, I ask, _why haven't they just removed all of our helmets if it meant we would come back to life?_"

"I- uh-." Sora stuttered. PoH looked at Booth, shocked. Niramabuto appeared shocked as well. Johnny Black had begun clapping.

"On them!" PoH ordered. Death swatted one of Johnny's daggers away, threw one of his own, and then began to duel with Niramabuto. Death had the overwhelming advantage of having a weapon and a "weapon." Even though his sharp, dagger-shaped buckler didn't deal nearly as much damage as a dagger would have, it had the endurance of a buckler. Niramabuto could only strike with his Two-handed sword, Death could block with the dagger and strike with Baionoido. Booth had begun dueling with Johnny, and Michael met PoH blow for blow.

"Switch!" Booth ordered, and He and Michael switched targets, confusing the PKers. This allowed both players to land two blows that would prove critical. Fragarach's ability triggered, causing Booth to deal damage directly to PoH and Johnny Black discovered a surprising effect Michael's Tenshi-Gatana had: it dealt more damage against creature types defined as "evil" and players with orange markers.

"PoH! YOU BASTARD!" Sora roared, swinging at PoH.

"Switch!" Booth ordered, switching targets with Sora. "Switch!" He ordered again, freeing up Michael. Michael charged at XaXa, whose sword had abandoned Trona's neck in a moment of heightened stupidity cause by Booth's rhetoric-based checkmate. Michael's assault was relentless, with only one purpose: Get XaXa away from Trona. Michael ignored all threats to himself, focusing solely on Trona's safety. XaXa managed to land a few blows, but Michael was an animal. He checked XaXa blow for blow, and Michael could deal more damage because of the curious sword.

"Give up, Niramabuto!" Death barked, but Niramabuto looked at his low health and smiled.

"You will not take me! No one takes my life but me!" And to everyone's surprise, Niramabuto stabbed himself and died before Death could do anything to prevent it, even though Death would not have killed Niramabuto and said player could have gotten away.

"Damn!" XaXa exclaimed, whipping out a teleport crystal. "Teleport: Friben!" He said, disappearing in a burst of light. Michael turned on PoH, watching as Booth had become gradually overwhelmed by the PKer, even with Piety.

"Don't worry! Get Trona!" Booth said, chugging a potion. Michael obeyed and moved over to get Trona, but Johnny Black moved between them.

"If we can't have her, no one will!" He said, and threw a poison dagger at her as he withdrew his own teleportation crystal.

"NOOOOOO!" Michael screamed, to no avail. The word seemed to slow as the dagger sailed, sailed... and struck Sora. Sora gave a muffled gasp as the dagger impaled his abdomen, then collapsed in front of Trona. Trona screamed his name, but she was cut off by XaXa arriving with a fresh batch of Laughing Coffin members.

"Booth! Get them out!" Death barked, catching Michael's attention. _That voice... _Michael thought, then dismissed it. He ran over to Death, standing by his side and refusing to budge no matter how many Laughing Coffin members came at them. Booth ran over, grabbed both Sky Warriors, and teleported.

"Corridor:-" Death said, withdrawing the crystal. Every single Laughing Coffin member saw and began to back away. "-HADES!" His whip lashed out and struck five PKers, all of them disappearing in a flash of light. Michael found himself facing PoH, Johnny, XaXa, and three other Laughing Coffin members.

"That damnable strategy of his... Would you believe me if I told you this is what is left of our guild?" PoH said angrily. "Ever since your friend started taking everyone to Hades... We will kill you, I guess." PoH said, frustrated. He had imagined this meeting would enable them to capture and kill Death and maybe a Valkyrie, but not this.

"Not if I can help it." Death said flatly.

"How?" XaXa asked. XaXa's object of frustration was at hand, no one had ever bested his Estoc before.

"Corridors are two way to those the user chooses." Death said. "And I chose Michael and me. I already used mine, but Michael is welcome to go." Michael turned to look at PoH. _How could I have hated this man?_ He thought.

"I'll stay with you, you don't have to sacrifice yourself for me." Michael said, his respect for Death growing a smidgen.

"Actually, I had planned on running since you might slow me down, but all right." Death said, bolting backwards. Michael looked around surprised, then ran off after Death. The Laughing Coffin members gave chase, almost keeping up with Michael and Death, but Death pulled out a teleport crystal when they got close.

"Teleport: City of Heroes!" He exclaimed, and they disappeared in a burst of light. They quickly ran over to the house, trying to see if everyone was OK, but ran across Booth, Trona, and Sora on the side of the road before that.

"SORA! Don't go, damn it!" Trona wailed desperately.

"We knew you would come this way, so we stopped at the road side..." Booth said, looking down at Sora. Whatever poison Johnny Black had placed on this dagger, it was more potent than anything they'd seen before. "Not like we had much choice, though." Booth looked a tad bit morbid in the lighting, especially when he looked at the ailing Sora.

"An antidote crystal!" Death exclaimed suddenly, but Booth shook his head.

"It's got the 'insidious' effect, that would just worsen it. Right now, our only hope is that his Battle Healing skill will outpace the poison as it is."

"What about taking him to the house? Player houses cancel out damage effects."

"Every time he physically moves, whether voluntarily or not, the poison worsens. It has an effect that lasts for twenty-three hours." Booth looked over at Sora. Some of the game's poisons manifested appearance-wise in the user. Sora had developed dark bags under his blood-shot eyes and his skin was very pale.

"There's gotta be something we can do!" Michael exclaimed. He wanted to scream and punch something, but he knew better than that.

"All we can do is wait it out, it seems." Booth said. "Shit."

"What?!" Death asked, knowing something _really_ bad had happened to get Booth to swear.

"Laughing Coffin." Death said, pointing. PoH and the remaining guild members were charging right at them.

"Don't suppose you could pull that 'Hades' trick again, could you?" Michael asked Death.

"Those corridor crystals are expensive. I literally only have 100 col in my pocket right now." Death said, fingering his knives.

"I'm afraid we'll have to get orange." Booth said.

"In defense of Sora?" Michael asked.

"In defense of Sora." Booth confirmed. Their motives justified, the Christians were completely fine with the course of action they must take. "Daggers!" Booth and Death began to take out and split into five the assorted daggers they had, throwing a near continuous barrage of knives at Death and his henchmen. One or two of them were paralyzed, one was poisoned, the remaining ones took some damage, but onwards they went. Death withdrew Baionoido and Booth whipped out Kusanagi and sent wind leaf after wind leaf at his opponents. While Booth, Death, and Michael were giving the PKers hell, a touching scene was developing on the side lines.

"I- I'm sorry." Sora said, talking one of the few actions he could perform.

"Don't die on me, Sora!" Trona pleaded. "We're brother and sister in arms!" Everyone had always joked Sora and Trona probably had something had something going on between them, but this always bugged them. They simply had a relationship that was above and beyond friendship without being lovers or anything of the sort. Booth had often said they were like brother and sister, so they adopted the moniker.

"I'm so, so sorry. I couldn't let you take it. You would be dead already." Sora said, smiling slightly. "Trona, could you do me a favor?"

"What is it?" Trona asked. Sora looked at his diminishing health, knowing his Battle Regeneration skill wouldn't outdo the poision's effects by the rate at which it was going down.

"This may sound silly, but I haven't even had my first kiss. I didn't want to die not knowing how-" Trona cut him off and kissed him, tears flowing from their eyes. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry it had to end like this." Sora said. His health was just so. He reached up and stroked her cheek, his health going down dangerously.

"I loved meeting you and being your brother, Trona." He said, his health a mere sliver. "Take care of Michael, he needs you." Sora swallowed, death imminent, and looked at his health bar. "Tell everyone I'm sorry for the pain I caused and... and... Give 'em hell!" Sora said, his health hitting zero. He burst into blue lights, disappearing and leaving Trona's arms empty.

"S- S- Sora? Sora? Sora?! SORA! _SORA!_" Trona wailed desperately as his items filled her inventory in their shared tab. Trona wailed and cried, all to no avail, but the tears weren't enough to drown the flames of her growing hate. She whipped out Poseidon's Bane and set off with the rapier into the battlefield.

"Trona, no!" Booth barked, slashing a PKer.

"They killed him, Booth. They killed Sora!" Tears streaked down her face, but it was a wonder they did not evaporate from the heat of her anger.

"Trona, now is not the time to-" Michael started, but Trona's roar caught him off guard. The battle's pivotal moment arrived as Trona took on two nondescript Laughing Coffin members and brought their healths down to the red. Even with potions and crystals, they couldn't help but lose to her, and Booth could have sworn Trona seemed faster than Asuna herself.

"Retreat!" One of them exclaimed, whipping out a teleport crystal, but Trona batted it away with a slap. The other just took off and ran into the woods. PoH watched his offensive crumble into a hopeless defense and gave the same order.

"Retreat! We'll live to fight another day!" He growled, running away with Johnny flanking him and XaXa casting evil eyes at Trona. Trona wanted to give chase, but Michael grabbed her from behind.

"No. Trona. No." He half-growled, half-ordered. "It's useless if we lose another player." Trona finally stopped struggling and broke down into his shoulders. All four players watched the woods warily, backing away from the trees and edging their way towards the house. Neither party accomplished what they had come for, mostly because of Johnny Black's temper tantrum. That night, Trona cried herself to sleep while the rest of the crew looked out the windows, watching the Laughing Coffin members come and go as shadows between the trees.

_**All right, guys, this is it for a while, I'm afraid. I'm heading off as a rappelling instructor at a camp for three weeks, and I usually come back exhausted after the camp, so don't expect an update. Maybe I'll get something up, but it is highly unlikely.**_


	11. Sora Requiem

**May 30th, 2024. 4:00 AM.**

**Floor 58: Mount Kita. Death's Base of Operations.**

"Hey, Booth." Eri said, putting her hand on her husband's shoulder. "Are you OK?" Booth turned up to look at her idly, then put his head down again.

"My plan backfired." He said. Sora's loss was... painful to everyone. Trona didn't seem as though she would get over it anytime soon.

"So?" Eri asked rhetorically, trying to comfort Booth.

"So I got someone killed, Sora _died_ because I didn't consider Johnny Black's chaotic nature." Booth said, getting up and angrily punching the wall.

"So you screwed up once, but you learned from it." Eri said.

"But it was such a massive screw up. Sora is gone, Trona won't get over it. Ever. She might never forgive me as well..."

"I forgive you." Eri said, hugging him from behind. A sob wracked Booth's chest, quickly followed by another few, eventually turning into a torrent of tears. "Booth, Booth, my love, calm down. You had nothing to do with this." Eri turned him around and kissed his forehead, then hugged him with both her arms and her legs. "Cry it out, love, hold me, feel me. It's not your fault. You work with absolutes," Eri said, running her hands up and down his back, "You were faced with a wild card where there shouldn't have been one." Eri whispered in his ear.

"What would I do without you?" Booth asked, clutching her to himself. An hour or two later Michael knocked at their door, but found it open so he walked in. Booth and Eri were peacefully sleeping next to each other, intertwined like they were a human braid. He watched them sleep so peacefully, his heart aching for someone he could lie like that with, then shook his head, dismissing those thoughts away.

"Booth. Hey, Booth." Michael said, feeling guilty to wake them up.

"Yeah?" Booth asked as he saw Michael in a sort of subdued voice.

"We gotta have a meeting." Michael said.

**May 30th, 2024. 6:00 AM. **

**Floor 58: Mount Kita. Death's Base of Operations.**

"Yet another blow has been struck to us by PKers, and I have called this meeting because of that." Michael said, matching eyes with everyone. "Booth and I started this mission a long time ago, and so far everyone who has added themselves in besides us has been killed." Michael closed his eyes and gripped the chair in front of him tightly, straining the flexibility of the leather cover. "Booth and I have come to the agreement that we should not pursue this quest anymore. I hereby disband the Valkyries." Booth said, summoning a scroll and then deleting the item, dissolving their guild. Trona sort of sat comatose, Booth nodded solemnly, Lydia shook her head, Death's hands closed into fists, and Eri sat as she had been.

"If you do not wish to continue, fine. I will carry on, against all costs, to bring this threat to a closure." Death said, walking out the door with long, angry strides. Eri watched him go idly, then looked at Lydia.

"I... I... You'll have to forgive me, folks, I have a husband to follow." She said, picking up her lance and following Death out the door, albeit calmer.

"Michael... I think you need to consider something before making a decision like that: What is God's will in this?" Booth said, leaning forward so his rosary fell out of his shirt. Trona looked on with interest, watching Michael's expression with sudden interest.

"Well, I uh... I'd think he'd want us to stop. We're throwing away too many lives." Michael said flatly, not really believing what he was saying.

"What do you think the Christians in the first century thought when the persecution started up?!" Booth said, losing control of his voice. "Did they think 'Well, shoot, we just got butchered. Ya know what, let's all go home, curl up around a fire, and sip on some tea.'?!" Booth had stood up now.

"I think we are in an entirely different situation here!" Michael said, standing up in turn.

"We are following a cause! Yes, people died, but the cause goes on! It is the exact same principle." Booth stated coldly.

"I lost Donovan, my own brother! I lost Sora, I lost Tabor, I lost Emma," Michael roared, "I lost Momoe, I lost Takara, and- and- I might lose Trona too at this rate." Michael's voice had gradually diminished in volume and emotion as he went down the list. "How can I live with that?! What am I going to tell everyone?! I came into this game with the sole purpose of seeing my brother and my friends finish it. _Alive_. I failed... I failed everyone." Booth backhanded him across the face so hard Trona suspected bones would have broken in real life.

"That is the most selfish, inconsiderate statement I've ever heard." Booth said, disdain heavy in his voice and his eyes. "You focused only on saving those dear to you while not considering everyone!" Booth picked Michael up easily and slammed him against the wall. "How hard would that be? Change from 'I will save those dear to me' to 'I will save everyone I can'?" Booth let Michael slide down the wall slightly. "Huh? Come on, answer me." Booth said calmly.

"I'll do it." Michael said, slapping Michael's hands away. "For Pete's sake, man, I'll do it, all right?" Michael looked up at Booth bitterly. "You started this fight anyways. Right when we started suspecting Niramabuto." Michael looked up at Michael and scowled, his eyes narrowing as his mind processed the events. "What are you trying to accomplish?!" Michael said, anger filling his voice as sudden as the realization he had just had. "What the hell have we been working for?!" Michael pinned Booth to the wall, slamming his fists into Booth's shoulders. "The rhetoric you used against Sora, no, not even that, _how simple it was to brainwash Sora_. What did you ask him to do?"

"Sora volunteered." Booth said calmly, his eyes matching Michael's. "He asked me if there was anything he could do, I told him what I was planning. I needed him to take over after my own death." Everyone's eyes suddenly widened.

"Your _what__?_" Eri blurted out.

"My own death. Originally, it was supposed to be me who would die at this encounter. During the fight, Sora would have to enter into friend status with one of the Laughing Coffin members by forcing him to accept a friend request. This owuld be accomplished by me dueling the Laughing Coffin member and allowing this person to kill me so he wouldn't notice the friend request and we could track them to their base. Sora had a better idea. He would allow himself to 'fall under the sway' of a Laughing Coffin member I designated so he could access their base. He would then send a friend request from PoH or one of his lieutenants so we could track them." Booth said, looking downwards. "We knew he couldn't remain in this state forever, and he also saw the fact we would need to justify a period of inactivity within our own guild. He suggested another period of mourning, caused by his own death. I advised him against it, but he said he wanted to do it. He justified by saying I had a plan laid out from a while ago, and that I myself was required to carry out this plan. He also told me to avoid telling you guys this until after the game was cleared."

"Sora..." Trona started.

"Yes, he died a hero. None of this would have been possible without him. We accomplished three things: One, I can track Red-eye XaXa now, even though they've spent an awful lot of time moving around all sixty floors, so I can't pinpoint their base yet. Two, PoH has become significantly cockier because of this planned failure. If you noticed, he followed us all the way to our house. That is an incredibly bold move for his position. He will also be more likely to reach out to recruit more people. This leads me to my third point: Death is on the loose." Booth looked at his notifications and brought one up for all to see. "If you've noticed, ownership of this lot and the Hades lot have passed over to me. He has rejected our strategy and returned to his old one: Elimination of Laughing Coffin, member by member."

"Booth, you magnificent bastard. Sora as well... if he gave his all, what should stop us from giving ours?"

"Sora..." Trona said softly, smiling at what her little brother had accomplished.

"And so it begins! _The Fall of Laughing Coffin!_" Booth announced, watching the 'friend' dot move as XaXa followed PoH around Aincrad.

_**Hello, everybody, I am back with the latest chapter and announcing that this book is now out of hyatus. Thank you all for your patience, I should have the next chapter up before the end of the week.**_


	12. Coalition

**Part 1: One Shinigami, Two Shinigami, Black Shinigami, White Shinigami.**

**August 1st, 2024. 11:00 PM.**

**Floor 56: Pani. Outside DDA HQ.**

Remaru was just an administrator for the DDA. He didn't really play a major role in any given activity, rather just handled recruiting, so he didn't really know how to deal with the situation.

"I surrender!" The hooded woman said, kneeling at his feet. "I... I... I couldn't take it anymore! All the killing, the torturing... I- His voice, his manner of speech-" the woman rambled on and on, Remaru noticing that she had a tattoo on her bicep: A western-style coffin with a laughing face on it and a skeletal arm waving at him from inside the coffin.

"You're a Laughing Coffin member!" Remaru exclaimed, whipping out his scimitar.

"No, please, I yield... fake my death, don't let them find me! PoH will... he'll..." The woman broke down into wordless sobs. Remaru stood, petrified, unable to deal with the situation.

"Irie!" Booth exclaimed, rounding the corner of the HQ building. "Oh, thank God you're all right!"

"Not for long." Death said, rounding the opposite corner. Tensions had grown between Death and Booth over the past few days, especially since Booth had been seen by Death talking to two Laughing Coffin Members.

"Death, she's surrendering!" Booth exclaimed, quickly moving between Irie and Death, Remaru watching the whole confrontation in confusion.

"Ill duel you for her." Death said calmly, measuring Booth's reaction. Booth didn't seem to really be shocked. "She's still a Laughing Coffin member."

"Fine." Booth said, drawing Fragarach. Death slid Feuerschwert from its scabbard, making the usual rattling of steel on scabbard to intimidate his opponent. Booth was unfazed, however. Normally, a duel request would have to be sent, but since the DDA HQ was outside the city, Booth and Death just had to step outside the property limits, conveniently one step away.

Booth gripped Fragarach tightly, his left one clenching and relaxing. Death stared him down, the mask an unreadable faceplate. His hood fell evilly over his head, and Booth began to wonder exactly why they had trusted him in the first place. Death suddenly lept forward, swinging his sword at Booth's collarbone. Booth blocked evenly with Fragarach, kicking Death's abdomen. The leather plating prevented Death's wind being knocked out, however.

Death was skilled enough to use the recoil to his advantage, however, and backhanded Booth across the face as he twirled backwards. Booth was equally adept a swordsman, however, and actually had real life experience fighting with swords. It was almost as if Death had become one with the system, though, and his moves seemed flawless.

Remaru watched the battle in excitement, never having seen two players fight so viciously before. Irie watched in dismay, however, as Death kept Booth's HP just under his own despite Booth's Piety skill. Booth had managed to integrate the occasional throwing knife into his repertoire, however, and several were already sticking out of Death's thorax. Since Death was a "red player," Booth's player crystal remained green, but Irie began to wonder exactly to what extent Booth would go to defend her.

"We never established a win con." Booth said, as if reading Irie's mind. "Death?" Booth asked.

"Precisely." Death said, probably grinning under his mask.

"I didn't... oh, boy." Booth said, again meeting Death's assault face on. It appeared as though he hadn't taken the fight seriously, however, as he suddenly began to meet Death's blows with his own sword, and Fragarach kept making minor cuts all across Death that added up to some pretty intense damage.

Booth suddenly grunted as Death's flammarde passed mere millimeters from his nose and he bent over backwards. Death laughed whipped out his dagger-buckler.

"Had you forgotten about this little guy?" Death asked. Death's dagger-buckler had at first ignited some controversy, some going so far as to claim he was in league with Kayaba Akihiko, but several top-level blacksmiths immediately explained the whole custom-weapon system and how you could designate edges as 'sharp' so they would deal damage when the opponent was dealt damage. Everyone then dismissed Death as another attention-whore, to the point where even Booth had forgotten about the little weapon. Booth found himself under the brutal assault of two weapons, unable to block both at once, and his health began to go down again.

Irie gasped as Booth's health went into the red while Death's HP stayed at yellow. 10% vs 23%. 6% vs 22%. 3% vs 22%. Booth suddenly kicked Death in the face, knocking him back a few meters. Booth quickly withdrew what appeared to be a jug of moonshine, chugging it down. 10%, 30%, 50%. His HP went up, and his eyes began to glow a deep crimson.

"Firewater?" Death asked, referring to the rare wine. Booth smiled in a sly manner.

"Yes." Booth said, as his HP suddenly went down to 49%. Firewater was a drink that would refill your HP and boost your speed by 20% and your damage by 5% but your health would steadily go down until 1%. Booth charged in, not wasting one second, as Death raised his sword. Both players clashed again, Booth's increased speed and damage aiding him, but Death was still too fast. Booth managed to deal some damage, and the XP suddenly accumulated enough so that he leveled up his One-Handed Straight Sword level and his overall level increased. Booth broke off and began running around the HQ, Death following in hot pursuit. Booth calmly assigned the bonus XP to the battle healing skill, leveling it up by several points and raising his VIT parameter. His STR parameter also went up from the weapon's use. Booth then unequipped his Night vision skill and replaced it for Battle Healing.

"Come on, Death. You're getting so slow." Booth taunted as he outpaced the player in pursuit. His health steadily went up, but the Firewater kept bringing it down at a more paced, but heavy rate. Booth suddenly whipped around and threw ten daggers at Death. Seven hit, bringing his health down. "We don't have to fight like this."

"You accepted a duel, live up to the promise." Death said.

"Stop, Booth! You don't have to do this for me!" Irie called out.

"The law is set. A duel was made, a death is the win condition." Death said. "There are no excuses, the law must be fulfilled. Justice must be served."

"What about grace?" Booth grunted out under Death's barrage of sword and buckler blows.

"Grace is conditional, so is love. The law is absolute." Death said, emotionless.

"Have you considered repentance?"

"Past transgressions bear weight. She has killed, so she must die." Death said flatly, cutting Booth's face with Baionoido.

"You have killed as well. By rights you should die." Booth said.

"By rights I will. All will die, sooner or later." Death said in the same monotone voice. Booth's sword managed to nick Death's throat, causing Death to gag uncomfortably.

"Then you shouldn't worry about her punishment, since she will die anyways." Booth roared, kicking Death in the face when the opening came.

"Justice has decreed otherwise." Death said, behind his crossed forearms that had blocked the blow.

"Then kill yourself." Booth said, sweeping Death's legs out from under him. Death landed on the flat of his back, then rolled away.

"I am justice. I kill _for_ justice. She killed for the sake of killing. There is a difference." Death's voice broke with the last statement as Booth swatted Baionoido away with Fragarach, sheathed, withdrew Kusanagi, and sent twin blasts of air at Death.

"You make no sense!" Booth said. "You kill for the sake of killing. Justice has decreed no one must kill. You use justice as a shield, but at core you are the same: killers."

"Justice is behind me, pleasure is behind them." Death said flatly. _I can't break him mentally. He constantly repeats a senseless mantra..._

_"It doesn't matter!_ Justice behind you or not, you still kill."

"I kill for justice."

"You kill for the sake of killing! It would make perfect sense to just lock them up in Hades!"

"I kill for justice."

"Justice is against killing in any form!"

"I kill for justice." Death said in the same flat voice.

"You kill for fun." a voice said. "And I do not condone the fact you are using my identity." Both Death and Booth turned around and looked. Atop the HQ, a man in a white kimono wielding a two-handed sword looked down at him. Booth noticed his face was still hidden, some bandages covering it. "I believe you're using my things as well." Booth searched desperately for a facial feature that would show who the new arrival was. The only things he gleaned were that he had black hair and amber eyes.

"I'm taking over. I funded you, I supported you, and you were not willing to carry out the mission!" The black Death roared.

"I still don't appreciate you sticking me in Hades. Those were some awful months in there." The white Death said. "I agreed to work with the Valkyries, and you threw it all away." White Death lowered his sword. "Let's fight to see who's the real Death. I challenge you, Sheito Okamura, to a duel! Whoever wins inherits all the properties and money the other one has!"

"Very well. I assume you want me to assign them to Lydia since you don't want your identity known?" Sheito said, taking off the mask and preparing the transaction. His handsome, oriental face gleamed in the moonlight. Booth was rather surprised.

"Yes. And I'll have my mask back." White Death said, extending his hand. Sheito tossed it up and Death caught it deftly. "To the death?"

"To the death." Sheito said as Death unwrapped the bandages at the same time he put the mask on, teasingly giving Booth a view of his hair, ears, and the back of his jawbone. His hair was raven black and straight, flapping about in the wind, matching the light beard he had developed in coloring. Once the mask was tied with the silk ribbons, Death gripped the sword one handed and climbed down. "Booth?" He asked.

"3," Booth said, knowing they could both turn on him if he didn't comply. Death grasped the sword tightly.

"2," Sheito gave a slight chuckle and raised the two swords.

"1," Booth said, Lifting up Kurasanagi.

"GO!" He impaled his katana in the ground. Both players burst forward, Booth watching apprehensively. The world seemed to slow down as Sheito brought both weapons down towards Death's face. Death kept his sword parallel to the ground, hurtling towards Sheito at an unbelievable speed. Both players clashed, their weapons digging into each other. Both players had clearly bet on their weapon overpowering the other one. Death had bet his greatsword would reduce Sheito's already dangerously low health to zero, Sheito had bet his two weapons would reduce Death's health to zero since Death didn't have any armor on.

Sheito started laughing maniacally, a chill running up and down Booth's spine. Death's health was barely going down, while Sheito was bleeding himself dry. Death suddenly took out a jitte and started turning Sheito into a pin cushion.

"You want to know who Death is? It's all in the name. It's what changed him. Death. Is. D-" The last word was garbled as Death ran the jitte through Sheito's head. Sheito burst into blue moxes, disappearing from the game. Death sheathed his greatsword into the ground, then dropped down.

"How did you avoid your health going down?"

"Love." Death said.

"Love?"

"Lydia made this especially for me. She waited until every single possible Sewing skill bonus had accumulated, and then crafted a Blue Dragonwyrm Leather Cloak." Death said, removing the kimono. The cloak flapped in the wind gently. Death pulled the hood over his head and lifted a face cover over the mask. He then withdrew a sheath from his inventory and hung it from his shoulders so it was perpendicular to the ground and sheathed the greatsword. "It has an AP of 1,278.93. It is better than all of Sheito's set combined."

"I guess I owe you one."

"You owe me nothing. I owe you. You've helped me further my vengeance against Laughing Coffin far more than I could have done it alone."

"What do you mean by vengeance?" Booth asked.

"They killed my sister." Death said. "She was the first player PoH ever killed."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Booth said, putting a hand on Death's shoulder.

"I hear that this player has interesting information on Laughing Coffin's whereabouts." Death said, crouching in front of Irie. His amber eyes looked red through the mask's eye slits. "And I want her to tell me everything she knows."

_**What's up, Fanfic-ers? I am glad to report that I made it through my writer's block all right and the story is back on track. Please be aware that I have started school again so updates won't be nearly as frequent as when they were in the summer. This chapter is divided into parts since it's a bit long. That was part one.**_

**Part 2: Coalition**_  
_

**August 4th, 2024. 5:00 PM**

**Floor 55: Granzam. KoB Meeting Room.  
**

"Well, that settles it." Booth said, rubbing the feeling back into his legs. After Irie and Kiche snitched, Death faked their demises, and Booth established a safehouse, they had gone to the KoB with all the information they had. Godfree had been particularly instrumental in the devising of the plan. Under the excuse they were planning better strategies for future boss fights, 50 players began to gather and plan against Laughing Coffin. Today had been the final meeting.

"Hey, Booth!" Kuradeel called out. Kuradeel was a shy, awkward player whose looks didn't help either. He was still a rather proficient swordsman and his high investment into the STR stat allowed him to weild lesser swords as if they were much higher level. This ensured he was always well equipped. He wore the typical clothing of the KoB, thoroughly devoted to their cause, though a bit incapable of showing it due to his shy nature and awkward disposition.

"Yes?" Booth asked, a friendly smile decorating his face.

"I was wondering if we could go over the plan once more, but a bit more simple, I didn't really get it with Godfree's extensive lecture."

"All right." Booth said, putting up five fingers. "It's really simple: five phases:

-Phase one: We enter the dungeon on the 12th floor. The remaining Valkyries perform recon while the KoB, DDA, Fuurinkazan, and Headhunters run last checks on equipment and the carry-players distribute items.

-Phase two: Once we ID the base, the KoB is going to go straight up the center and block off the main exit while the DDA block the left passages and Fuurinkazan cover the rear. Headhunters will allow some to go through the right passages before cutting them off, allowing us to capture them.

-Phase three: The DDA charges through the passages and rams them from the back while the KoB holds their ground, this is intended to press the main forces in and harry them into surrendering.

-Phase four: The Headhunters again allow some through and the Valkyries capture them.

-Phase five: Everyone remaining should be captured by now. Once this is done, we will transport them and place them in the Black Iron Castle Dungeons for the Army to deal with them."

"K. Thanks." Kuradeel muttered curtly, walking away. Booth shook his head and smiled. The vast majority of SAO players were anti-social people like him, but some had changed. Michael had told him once how Donovan was antisocial, but Donovan had apparently become highly social and garnered quite a few friends throughout his time in SAO.

"Ah, crap, 'tis over already." A player said, bursting in.

"Sir, familiars aren't allowed in here!" A guard exclaimed indignantly, and Booth turned to watch. He heard a gasp next to him as Michael noticed the newcomer. For a full five seconds, Booth could have sworn Donovan was standing there right next to Lee, but then the minor and not so minor details began to come out.

"But 'e be'aves 'imself!" The newcomer exclaimed. He had the same honey-colored dreadlocks as Donovan, but they were only as long as his jaw and collar. His jaw was a tad bit too round, his nose too long, and his eyes were sky blue instead of amber. He had a leather parka inked to look like light blue polyester and had tan-colored fur trim on the hood, dark brown baggy pants with dozens of pockets in them ended at some Blue Dragonscale Boots. He had a plain, dark grey cotton shirt under the parka and several medallions, amulets, and trophies hung from his neck. A light blue muffler covered some of them along with the player's neck. A black beanie sat on top of his head, though as the parka it was probably a leather armor inked to look like a wool beanie.

"Sir, no familiars allowed. _Period_." The guard said, referring to what Booth and Michael had thought was a Polar Mastiff Bear but turned out to be a tiger of the same size. It was a tameable animal called a Cerulean Tiger that inhabited the snowy, Siberian-esque 68th floor's forests.

"A'right, Cooky, out you go." The player said, dismissing the familiar. The familiar walked out nonchalantly with a bored expression, its tail sashaying in tandem with its hips, causing the bells at the end of its tail to jingle.

"DONOVAN!" DragonBlade yelled, picking up the player from behind and shaking him up in the air in a great big bear hug. Tix joined the celebration rapidly as well, much to the player's chagrin and confusion.

"Uh, 'scuse me?" He asked, observing DragonBlade with a bewildered expression.

"Oh, you're uh... mister... uh..." DragonBlade said, avoiding eye-contact and gaining a beet-red complexion out of shame.

"Hamamura, Tatsuo Hamamura." Tatsuo said, extending his hand from out of DragonBlade's strong grip, a broad, toothy smile on his face. DragonBlade put Tatsuo down and shook his hand. Booth was kind of surprised Tatsuo would give his IRL name just like that. "What'cha all lookin' at?" Tatsuo said, staring down everyone who had been drilling their eyes into DragonBlade and Tix. "Man made a mistake, cut 'im some slack." A couple of players snickered at Tatsuo's Osaka accent _**(Author's note: I have no idea what type of accent the Osakan accent would translate into in English, so I just gave Tatsuo an accent with a little bit of everything because I can't write in Japanese for the life of me and that would ensure the vast majority of my audience would be incapable of reading**_** it.)**

"Who's this guy?" Booth asked.

"Judging by the tiger, he's probably from Konpeki Nekko." Michael said, chuckling slightly at DragonBlade and Tix's chagrin. DragonBlade looked like he might just drop down and die from shame.

"Never heard of them." Booth said.

"_Him_." Michael corrected. "He's a solo player who likes the benefit of being part of a guild. His entire appearance, actually, is the guild uniform."

"He probably has a hunting ground too, doesn't he?" Booth asked.

"And a guild home as a residence." Michael confirmed. "He's an odd case, hardly ever on the front lines."

"No, no, not at all, sonny!" Tatsuo exclaimed, shaking DragonBlade's hand with both of his quite vigorously. "A am mighty pleased to be able to call ye ma friend."

"Stats?" Booth asked.

"Bastard sword user. Blacksmiths often refuse to cater to him because he always asks them to make it as heavy as possible, and he'll overwork them until he has precisely the amount of "Weight" he wants." Michael said, stroking his stubble. "I think Eri made a sword for him once, early on in the game when Donovan was still around. Tatsuo's hair was a lot shorter, she said it was a mass of curly hair, more like a bird's nest."

"So his STR is high?" Booth asked.

"Actually, that's what all the charms are for. The only stats he ever puts points into besides the points that go into a stat automatically are LUK and VIT. Besides what he gets for leveling up his skills, he relies on all those charms and sigils to boost him, I hear some even give 60 stat points." Booth let out a low whistle. "It actually makes him slightly weaker than the average player since he only relies on the charms and he doesn't have much of a base to build off of, and he only gets some charms from drops, he's actually sorta poor. I'd guess about 95% of all he earns goes into sigils and charms."

"Sounds like a frenetic lifestyle." Booth mentioned. "Though he is sort of _charming_." Michael chuckled slightly, causing Booth to turn around. "What?"

"You weren't cracking a pun?" Michael asked, puzzled.

"What? I was referring to the charisma he gets from the accent and his easy-going appearance." Booth said, missing the point.

"Never mind, then." Michael said, walking over to introduce himself to the player. Booth observed the player cautiously. He hadn't been summoned to the meeting, and he might be from Laughing Coffin.

"An' this purty lady is your acquaintance?" Tatsuo was asking Michael of Trona.

"I'd say we're very close friends." Michael said, putting his arm around Trona's shoulders, an unconscious movement to protect her.

"Weell, lucky me. Mah name's Tatsuo Okamura, pleased to make your acquaintance." Tatsuo said, shaking Trona's hand warmly.

"Hello, I'm Booth." Booth said, extending his hand in greeting. Tatsuo shook it vigorously and smiled broadly.

"'Ello, Ah am Tatsuo Okamura. People sometimes call me _Kuno-Bakka_, but Ah dunt get why." Tasuo said.

"Arrive late for the meeting?" Booth asked. _Ten hours late, actually._

"Ah, yes, that would be mah current conundrum."

"Well, here, allow me to explain." Booth said, beginning and giving Tatsuo a pretty simple plan that was nothing like the original.

"Ah, Ah see." Tatsuo said. "Ah'll see y'all o'er there t'morrow." Tatsuo said. Booth smiled and waved goodbye amiably.

"What was that for?" Michael asked.

"He might be from the LC." Booth said.

"What do you mean?"

"He arrives late, tries to get all the info, and then leaves suddenly to go meet with some friends." Booth said. Tatsuo's accent also strained Booth's ears, him having considered Tokyo-ben the correct form of Japanese.

"All right. I guess it's sound reasoning, but he seems to friendly to be Laughing Coffin."

"Do you remember how the guild started? PoH's charisma won everyone over to his cause."

"Point taken. We also can't take any chances at this point." Michael said. Both of them, however, were painfully oblivious to Kuradeel's evil smile as he heard them label Tatsuo as a Laughing Coffin agent. _Yes, ignore me... I will have my revenge, I will be the strongest, the only one left... I know your plans, Booth, and I'll nail you to the ground for them. Just you wait, you will pay for what you've done to my brethren._


End file.
